Not ForgottenJust Misplaced
by TheWanderingPotionsMistresses
Summary: This is the first place winner of the Maple Bookshelf Augst "It's Hot in Here" Challenge. We took a slight diversion from canon events in order to bring this story to you. We apologize to any Australian readers if we made a right mess of your language and the city of Gladstone.
1. Chapter 1

"Severussss." The sibilant voice washed over the Potions Master. "This wand does not work for me." He held up the wand he had helped himself to from Dumbledore's tomb. "Why is that?"

"You are an extraordinary wizard, my Lord. Any wand should work. I've seen you do glorious magic with the wand you now hold."

"I have done ordinary magic, Severusss, only ordinary. However, I have been lied to. I was told I only needed another wand as my wand and his were brothers and could not fight against each other. I believed that this was The Elder Wand, the one that would overcome Potter, and give me all the power I so rightly deserve, but it seems it is not. The Elder Wand….I must have it."

"My Lord?"

"I cannot kill Harry Potter until I have the Elder Wand. I need it, Severussss."

"I do not know who would have it, my Lord."

"I was most certain Dumbledore had it, and so I helped myself to it. When it did not work as it should, I then remembered an old legend; the wand can only have one master. That master must overcome the master who owned it before. Do you know who overcame Dumbledore, Severussss?" Voldemort paced in slow circles around the Potions master.

"No, my Lord." Snape's stomach clenched. Voldemort's voice was sweet and calm, but it was only a matter of moment before the sweetness would turn to fury.

Severus knew well the story of the Elder Wand; he and Dumbledore as spoken of it many times. Voldemort would torture and perhaps kill him for this information, especially if he thought Severus was the master of the wand now.

Voldemort stopped pacing and stood facing Severus, his fetid breath washing over the Potions Master as he spoke, "You did. The night you killed him on the tower. You are the owner of the Elder Wand."

"I assure you my Lord, I am not the owner. I still have my wand."

"Let me see!" Voldemort screamed, spittle landing on Severus' cheek.

Severus held his wand up. "You see, my Lord? Still the same wand I have always had."

Voldemort snatched the wand and looked it over greedily. His disappointment showed as he dropped the wand to the floor. "So it is Severussss, so it is. But if you do not have it, then who does?"

Severus thought about that night on the tower. He remembered that Bellatrix and several other Death Eaters were present, prowling and taunting Dumbledore as he lay weakened and dying. Draco and Potter were also present. Draco was terrified. Too young and innocent to complete his task, he stepped back to watch Snape step forward in his place. Harry was petrified in the corner, covered by the invisibility cloak.

Severus suddenly realized that while the legend of the Elder wand seemed pretty straightforward regarding how the wand is mastered, the underlying subtly of mastering the wand was often disregarded. The wand didn't have to be won in a fight, it just to be taken with intent. Draco had disarmed Dumbledore before Severus ultimately killed him. The Elder Wand's allegiance was to Draco; Draco owned the Elder Wand!

"My Lord," Severus spoke suddenly and quickly, "If I may, I know who has the wand. I can get it for you, if you let me."

Voldemort looked nearly gleeful. "Yes, Severussss, do so and be quick. I must have that wand. Bring it to me here at the boathouse in one hour. I must attend to another matter." With that, Voldemort Disapparated.

Severus let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding as soon as Voldemort left. He bent over, hands on his knees, exhausted. The duplicitous role he had been playing for the past year was mentally and physically exhausting. This past half hour in the Dark Lord's presence had drained him magically as he struggled to keep his Occlumency shields in place.

Thinking quickly, he scooped his wand up into his hand and made his decision. He closed his eyes. Destination, Determination, Deliberation. At the last moment, the Sydney Opera House popped into his mind. He had only a moment to be flabbergasted before the familiar pull behind his navel whirled him away.

* * *

It was chaos, utter chaos. Stones that had supported the walls of that castle for longer than a millennia were lying out across the grounds, broken. Bodies of students were being transferred to the Hospital Wing—or what was left of it—the living before the dead. Her hands felt numb, but she could see them shaking, her wand trembling madly in her tight grip.

"Harry Potter is dead!" Maniacal laughter rang throughout the courtyard, and she turned slowly, attempting to deny the reality that would await her wide eyes. And it was horrible.

Hagrid's large hands tenderly cradled a small bundle of flesh and bones, much like he had sixteen years ago when he brought Harry to the Dursleys. Hermione's eyes couldn't focus on her friend's face, so she stared at his glasses, a tad askew on his blurry face, and at his hand, hanging limp, but somehow still holding his wand. The brother to the wand that killed him.

That killed him. Harry Potter was dead.

She sat up with a gasp, visions of bloody bodies clouding her waking vision. Her stomach twisted and turned, and she raced to the bathroom and turned on the tap. She splashed the cold water on her neck and temples before holding her wrists under the icy stream. When she was sure she wasn't going to vomit, she reached for a hand towel, dipping a corner into the stream of water before dabbing it across her face and chest to rinse off the sweat that gripped her skin like a shadow.

Hermione glanced up at the face in the mirror, noting the grey lines under her eyes, and the deep furrows etched beside her lips, aging her before her time. Grief did that to a person. But Harry wasn't dead, he had been alive, and the battle was long over. Voldemort had been defeated, and most of his Death Eaters had been rounded up and given the requisite Dementor's Kiss.

Tomorrow, or was it today, Hermione was joining her friends, Harry and Ron, at a further reading of Dumbledore's will. Apparently, some of the material in the document was to be read only after the war was over in order to protect as many people as possible. She sighed, lowering herself onto her haunches and then curled up on the floor. She had been to too many funerals, seen too many dead bodies, and heard too many eulogies and wills read. Enough to last her seven lifetimes.

And now she had to go to Dumbledore's second will reading. Only a man who had five names could possibly have two will readings. She laughed weakly at the thought.

She forced herself up from the floor and stumbled into the shower, stubbing her toe on the base of the tub, causing it to throb painfully as she stripped her nightclothes off and into a clumsy pile on the tiled floor.

It was strange to be living at home all by herself. Her parents were still living as Monica and Wendell Wilkins in Gladstone, Australia, and had no memories of their daughter, the brightest witch of her age. She massaged shampoo into her aching scalp and clenched her eyes shut against the bubbles and the water's spray. She rubbed idly at her neck as the soap trailed down her body, trying to ignore the exhaustion that plagued her.

The Battle had been on the Second of May, it was now July 30th. Her nightmares didn't give any indication that they were going away either. She wasn't just plagued by the bodies that had littered the ground. Some of the deaths she had put to rest in her mind. It was every single 'almost', where they almost failed, or someone almost died, which hounded her now. Her mother had once said that the surest death was dealt by what-if's.

"You've got to get past this, Granger. Breathe and keep moving. Don't stand still for too long. And don't ever forget." She repeated her mantra over and over, like she did every morning, and let the balm of those words caress the tattered edges of her soul, mending them a bit.

Once her hair was rinsed out, she turned the water off and stepped out. Forgoing a towel, she stood before her steamed mirror and dragged a brush through her hair while it was somewhat manageable. Once she had tamed her still damp hair into a sort of braid down her back, she appraised herself in the foggy mirror. She reached forward and placed her palm against the chilly surface. In a swift crisscrossing gesture, she smeared the fog from her mirror and judged her reflection.

She wasn't pleased by what she saw—she was far too thin, going so long with little to no food while on the run with her boys, and then barely eating after the battle; partly from habit and partly because she couldn't keep anything down other than tea and a bit of toast. War changed people, she knew, but her diet was the last thing she had expected to be affected.

She turned to the side and lightly touched the pads of her fingers to the visible jutting of her hipbones, and to the lines, which her ribs made, in her skin below her partly deflated breasts that sagged from her collarbone. She wouldn't be attracting anyone's gaze anytime soon. The thought shouldn't have hurt her since she'd always preferred to give everything its honest value—and physical beauty was such a shallow, transient thing—but she looked unhealthy and recognized the unattractiveness in an unhealthy partner.

She sighed, and turned away from her reflection, eyes moving instead to her left arm, where Bellatrix's carving marked her as somehow less than human. Her fingers moved to touch it, and jerked away as though the mark burned them—the mark was always hot, hotter than her hottest bathwater, hotter than her tea kettle, and probably hotter than anything, except maybe all the hatred Bellatrix had poured into the wound. Harry mentioned he never felt any heat from it, but didn't doubt that Hermione felt it. Magic was a strange creature, shifting the walls of normalcy on a daily basis.

She gave up trying to see the face she remembered, that hopeful girl who longed to learn new things, prove herself to others, and to strive to be the best she could. In her place was a woman. A woman who would trade several of her favourite books for a long period of peace, and a reprieve from death and from loss. But this woman wasn't foolish enough to belief she could find happiness any more. She had been dealt the worst life had to offer, and nothing would ever seem as pure or innocent to her ever again.

With a small bit of distaste, she cast a few glamour charms over her figure so that she appeared if not well, at least healthy. It wouldn't do for Molly to imagine one of her dears was starving herself to death, particularly since Fred was…

What to wear; that was a safe topic to think about. Something somber, of course, in dark colors, just as she had been wearing for the past year. There was little left to celebrate anymore.

She pulled out a grey skirt and a navy blouse. Once she had her pants and stockings on, she pulled on the outfit and grabbed her black robes. Sliding her feet into a comfortable pair of flats, she charmed her braid to stay relatively neat.

And with a small pop, she was gone.

* * *

The late winter sunshine poured through the small window in the room Severus slept, wakening the wizard. He was having such a good dream, too—a warm and willing redheaded witch had been bobbing up and down on his cock. Severus' hand moved of its own volition to wrap around his member to stroke it as his mind desperately clung to the mage. It didn't take long, ten strokes at the most, before he groaned out his release. Still holding his deflating member, he lay for a moment longer catching his breath before reaching for a tissue from the box on the cabinet by his bed.

When he finished cleaning up, he tossed the tissue in the bin nearby and got up. He grabbed his toiletry kit from its spot in the cabinet and headed for the common bathroom. He shared a boarding house with six other men, all of them Muggles, since arriving in Gladstone ten weeks ago. Standing in the hot shower, Severus' thoughts went back to what happened after he Apparated away from the boathouse.

When he first appeared near the Sydney Opera House, he walked around, keeping to the shadows, before finding a Muggle man about his height and size. He confounded the man, took his clothes and wallet and fled the scene. Severus knew he was mostly likely a wanted man, so he would need to keep his wand use to a minimum.

He had wandered through the city finally finding an all night shop where he bought some fruit, a sandwich and something to drink. He made his way to a secluded area in a nearby park to eat and when he was done, slid under a shrub to sleep.

A policeman found him the next morning, gave him a warning and one other thing that would ultimately be what saved Severus from starvation and death. The cop handed him a small white card with the name of several missions where he could go for a shower, change of clothes, some food and perhaps, if he were lucky enough, a day job for a bit of money. Thanking the man and then wandlessly Obliviating him so that he could not identify him later, Severus quickly left the area.

In a matter of days, with a careful combination of public transportation and Apparating, Severus found himself outside one of the missions located along the wharf in Gladstone. Severus entered and was made welcome. In short, order he found himself with another change of clothes, a meal, and a cot for the night. In the morning, he would see about a job.

* * *

The small courtroom was bustling with people; all the Weasleys were there, including Fleur who held a small blanket full of a strawberry-blonde girl and Andromeda Tonks, who was bouncing a yellow-haired infant with skin darker even than Kingsley's on her knee. As she watched, Teddy's appearance shifted into fair skin and red hair as he smiled up at Arthur Weasley. Hermione gave both children of the war a tremulous smile. Had Harry and Neville been like that? So innocent, but so precious, bought at the highest cost?

Hermione glanced at the clock and moved quickly to her seat, scrunched tightly between Ron and Harry, right at the very front.

"Mione," Ron whispered, tacking his arm along her stiff shoulders. "How've… How've things been going with getting to your parents?"

She smiled wanly at him. "I check in at the Foreign Floos Registrar just after this. I won't be needing much, but I did pack some clothes, books, and things in my carryall last night. I shrunk it and have it in my purse now."

Ron nodded. "And you're sure you don't want us with you?" Harry had turned to face her as well, hand coming down to grip hers.

She squeezed his hand back. "No. I need to do this on my own. Besides, Harry, Ginny won't let go of you, and Ron, if you think your mother would let you out of the country after… I mean, Charlie still hasn't gone back to Romania. Don't worry about it; I'll be fine. And I'll write you every day."

Put at ease, they turned and listened to the official who began to explain the proceedings, and then repeated Dumbledore's list of postmortem entitlements from the previous will. Hermione bit her lip to keep from tapping her foot impatiently on the echoing stone floor. Her fingernails—bitten to the quick—were drumming on her elbows without her consent.

"…and finally, the newest information is to be revealed once You-Know-Who, ahem, Lord Voldemort, previously Tom Marvolo Riddle, has been defeated. Concerning Professor Severus Tobias Snape;" Hermione wasn't imagining it, every spine in the courtroom stiffened. Almost everyone held their breath, waiting to hear what the late Headmaster wanted to say about his murderer. "He served as a double agent the entire time young Harry Potter was alive. His tasks were heavy, and there is little I can do to remedy that. But, in recognition of my placing even the heaviest task upon his shoulders, in return for killing me—" Here the entire crowd stopped breathing and Hermione felt herself standing in shock alongside Harry. "—for, killing me, as I ordered him to do, in order to prevent the disease within my body from killing my mind and body, and to prevent a student from becoming a murderer, I leave everything not given away to Severus Tobias Snape, including all of my properties in both Germany and the United Kingdom."

The official stopped reading, staring at the parchment as though it disgusted him. Harry moved to shout something, but moved his hands to rub each other instead, as though recalling Dumbledore's withered hand, a withering that had crept along his arm. "Draco… he did look terrified… that night…"

Hermione swallowed thickly, and turned her mind to every time Professor Snape had risked his life for her specifically. In her third year, most prominently, when he threw himself between her and the werewolf, Moony. But he had also protected her, and the other students in unseen and darker ways than she had ever imagined. Perhaps her own parents would forgive her then, she thought, if Dumbledore could forgive Snape. If she could forgive him, perhaps things wouldn't be so terrible with her parents.

After all, Albus forgave Snape—even felt like he owed everything to the man. The Weasleys were loudly whispering their confusion and protests, but Hermione moved to slip away. She hugged her boys tightly and walked out, head still buzzing with the knowledge that the man she had thought betrayed them was in fact a hero.

She made it to the Foreign Floos Registrar on autopilot, but returned to herself long enough to fill out the necessary forms before using the large fireplace marked "Down Under" in aboriginal-style letters. As the green flames whirled her along, soot tickling her nose, she kept her wand firmly in her hand, ready to defend herself, an action as natural as breathing now.

Once she was through, she nodded politely at the wizard manning the floos, brushed the soot from her robes, and walked over to the desk to fill out her arrival paperwork. Once everything was completed to the satisfaction of one very forward witch named Bess, who simply refused to believe a witch like her wasn't taken, and no Hermione wasn't interested in drinks, or perhaps more, with her later.

She removed her robe, shrunk it and tucked it into her pocket before walking over to a local Muggle coffee shop that had Wi-Fi connected computers for its patrons to use. Within moments, she had a warm cup of tea and a search engine up and running. She soon found the address for the dental practice of one M. Wilkins, W. Wilkins, T. Fossent, L. Mortens, and J. Dreyer.

She left the coffee shop, tucked herself into a shallow alleyway beside the building, and Apparated to a town called Gladstone. Once at the dental office, she walked right in and asked the heavily pregnant secretary named Susan if she could use their phone book. After chatting with the pregnant redhead for a few minutes, she flipped through the pages and jotted down the address listed for Wendell and Monica Wilkins.

Since it was only a few blocks away, she decided to walk there. After thanking Susan, and returning the book, she set off.

* * *

Monica and Wendell Wilkins had an amazing life. They had a well-established dental practice with three other dentists in partnership, a large home with substantial grounds, and a very active social life. The only regret they had was their inability to have children. Because of this, they focused their need to nurture and love to others and were very active in works of charity. They offered free dental care to the poverty-stricken residents of Gladstone as well as working in the mission and soup kitchen of their local church.

No matter how skilled Wendell Wilkins was at using his small dental instruments, he was not skilled in the least with hammer, saw, or lawnmower. For jobs around the house that didn't require a contractor and for monthly yard work, they hired men from the mission on a daily rate to complete the work. The men and the Wilkins were quite satisfied with the arrangement.

Monica had decided one late August morning that it was time to get the garden ready for spring with a rather ambitious overhaul and replanting. Thinking she would hire a landscaper for the ultimate design and planting, she would hire one of the mission men to do all the removal and grunt labor.

Severus Snape just happened to be looking at the jobs for hire board one morning at the mission when he saw a notice for some garden work at a residence just a few city blocks walk away. Having designed and maintained the one greenhouse at Hogwarts where he grew his more uncommon potion ingredients, Severus decided this would be within his capabilities. He tore the advertisement down, ate his breakfast, tidied up and headed out the door.

He arrived at the home of the Wilkins and knocked on the door. After introducing himself, he was led to the back garden, and there the Wilkins explained what they wanted. Severus briefly explained that prior to his unemployment, he worked in a school that taught agriculture and biology (he scoffed as he made that lie up). As part of the students' responsibility, and as an object lesson, they were required to grow the plants used in the biology lessons and in the kitchen for meals. The Wilkins agreed to try him out for a few days and if he was suitable, he could complete the prep work.

He was more than suitable. As the days went by, he used his knowledge to help the Wilkins design a new garden and pick new plants. He convinced Wendell to buy the material himself and allow Severus to do the work. All parties were happy with this arrangement. His meager wages allowed him to rent a room in a boarding house and be able to buy simple groceries to make meals, and he enjoyed the work.

Only one thing really bothered Severus at this point, and that was the family that lived next door. They put him in mind of the Malfoy's. Severus observed the husband and wife left the house each morning dressed to the nines and perfectly coiffed, hopped in their expensive looking car and drove away. Their only son, a Draco-clone, discovered Severus at work in the garden one day and wandered over to amuse himself.

"Another bum, I see."

Severus glared at the boy and then returned to his work.

"What's the matter? Too drugged out to work a real job? Gotta take handouts?"

Severus stood up from his work to look at the boy. "Haven't you got anything better to do?"

"Ah, the bum speaketh! And nope… not till Uni starts. Not that it's your business, loafer."

"Well, go find something to do, I must get to work. I know that's a foreign concept for you."

"Old man, get a life." The boy turned to leave after the small exchange and as he did so, Severus sent a small stinging hex to his backside. The boy yelped and turned around. "What the fuck did you do?"

"Language, boy. I did nothing; how could I have?" He gave the boy the famous Snape smirk.

The boy was quite angry. "Fuck you, old man! I'm watching you." He made a ludicrous motion with his hands where he pointed to his eyes and then at Severus.

Severus was thoroughly nonplussed and got back to work. This went on for several weeks; the boy would come and annoy Severus, and he would shoot a small hex at the boy. He was careful not to use his wand too much for this, relying on wandless magic so that he could not be easily traced. To be honest, he was not sure if the British Ministry had reported Severus Snape as a criminal-at-large to the rest of the Wizarding World, and he had not bothered to find out of there was any Wizard population in Gladstone or nearby.

Busy one evening at the front garden at the Wilkins, Severus heard the soft click of a woman's shoe against the pavement. He thought nothing of this as it was a sound familiar enough to be ignored. It was the stopping of the noise that drew his attention. He looked up from his work to see who had stopped.

Severus was not one to arbitrarily blurt out curse words, but the word flew out of his mouth before his brain could register a need to speak. "Fuck," he said, as he looked up to see Miss Hermione Jean Granger.

* * *

A/N: The word bludger used above is not our familiar ball from Quidditch. It is Aussie speak for one who does not work and relies on Social Security payments. At least according to Google.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: We would like to thank our first reviewers here: george111, ChiffonShock, duj, ' .M, and villafoo, most of whom seem to live near our setting. Thanks you for your delight in your temporary neighbors!

Disclaimer: These works are reproduced from raw material courtesy, but not the express permission, of the esteemed JK Rowling.

* * *

Hermione nodded curtly at the gardener she saw dressed all in black. Probably made for less to clean than khakis or denims, she supposed. In addition, it complements his black hair. It looks like so much silk, falling to his shoulders…

She shook her head at her foolish attempt to distract herself and refocused on her goal. Her steps grew slower as she closed in on the large green door. She kept her breathing even as she walked up the remainder of the path and knocked firmly on the door. Her palms were suddenly very sweaty, and she rubbed them quickly on her skirt then moved them up to check that her stubborn hair was still in a braid.

She heard the sound of footsteps, and then saw her mother opening the door. Her heart lurched at the simple act of her mother opening the door, so familiar a gesture, and she ached to be able to share it fully with her mother. "Hello?"

"Hello, my name is Hermione Granger. I'm new in the neighbourhood, well, new to the whole country actually, but I figured I'd introduce myself to some neighbours, and I saw the Union Jack sticker on the back of your car, and I figured if you were from London too, you were probably the best ones to introduce myself to. I hope I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" She said this all very quickly to cover for her nervous state.

Her mother, who believed herself to be Monica Wilkins, was instantly a welcoming and cheery hostess. "Oh no, dearie! Someone from home is always a bright spot in the day. Come right in! I do believe my husband and I will warm right up to you! Hermione, did you say? Lovely name, Greek isn't it? I'm Monica Wilkins, and my husband, Wendell, is probably still in his study. Let me fetch him to meet you once I settle you into our sitting room."

Hermione allowed her mother to lead her into the sitting room, show her to a peach coloured couch, and then place some tea in front of her. In a rush of rose perfume and gentle smiles, Monica Wilkins left a slightly shell-shocked Hermione Granger on her sitting room couch. Hermione cast a silent 'Muffliato' as she waited for her mother to bring her father in; no sense in having any dangerous persons listening in. She smiled to herself– it had been a year since she had seen her parents–and she wanted to enjoy this without having to worry about the threat of death looming overhead.

Severus slipped behind a large acacia bush hoping that Hermione did not see him. He watched as she approached the door to the Wilkin's home. She knocked briskly, and after a moment, Monica opened the door. He could not hear the conversation from his distance, but he assumed Hermione was making some sort of introduction, and Monica answered. The door widened to allow Hermione to enter.

Severus moved quickly. He knew the general layout of the house, having been in it to use the loo and the kitchen, where planning sessions took place and some of his meals were eaten. He decided that Monica would take the girl to the sitting room. He made his way to the window, peeked in, and saw the women sitting on the sofa. Squatting to avoid being seen, he listened for their conversation. He realized Hermione must have used a 'Muffliato' to mask their discussion as he could only hear an annoying buzzing sound. Knowing he would hear nothing, he moved back to his work, keeping to the front garden in order to see her leave.

Monica returned with her bespectacled husband in tow, daily paper still in his right hand. "Well, hello then, I'm Wendell, but I'm sure Monica's told you that. What was your name?" His hand was held out, ready to shake hers, a disconcertingly formal gesture from the man who used to chase monsters from under her bed.

"Pleasure to meet you, Wendell." Hermione put her hand in his and shook it firmly, just as her father had taught her to do all those years ago. "My name's Hermione Granger. I was just telling your wife how I was new to the area, and what a relief it was to find another London accent. It's like home isn't half a world away."

His familiar grin broke across his face, reminding her of the delicacy of her mission. Would she be able to restore their memories of her without damaging their existing memories? "Perfect. It's always a treat to find someone from home. You'll have to catch us up on things; you'll stay on for supper, right? It'll be on in just a mo."

She nodded at him through a somewhat forced smile, eager to spend as much time with her parents as she could to make up for the whole year without them; a whole year without the letters she was so used to receiving from them. "I'd love to."

Monica stepped forward and offered her a tour of their house while Wendell washed up for supper. The home was decorated in a style so similar, yet still different from their London home. "And we just finished redoing the kitchen. I love this lemon colouring, but Wendell says it's far too cheery on an early winter morning. The sandwich things are just over here," Monica continued as she bustled around the kitchen. "Oh, Hermione, love, would you like something to drink?"

"Water sounds lovely, Monica."

Monica filled the glass and passed it to her guest, ushering her over to the patio doors.

As he worked desultory at the ground he was clearing, he racked his brain for reasons why Hermione Granger, of all people, would look for him. Was she an Auror now? Was she here to arrest him and if so, why her? Did she expect he could be swayed to come quietly since she was a girl—scratch that—woman? That was ridiculous. She of all people knew he would not hesitate to kill her if need be. Did the Wizarding world know he was still alive? He was certain the minimal use of his wand should have been untraceable.

The door opening and the soft chatter of women meant, he hoped, the end of this miserable encounter. Alas, it was not to be. As they drew closer, he heard, "…and this here is our gardener, Stephen Armitage"

Severus' head flew up at the introduction. He had been hoping to hide or slip away so that Hermione would not see him at all. He had no choice now but to acknowledge the girl. "Good evening, Miss."

Hermione paused, the water glass her mother had given her forgotten in her hands. Snape. It was Professor Snape! Her eyes widened, but she nodded at him saying, "Pleasure to see you, sir. I'm Hermione Granger. Just came here from England. Have you been in Australia long? Forgive me, but your voice sounds like home, so...?"

Severus bit his cheek to avoid smirking at the girl. She was being subtle. He could see that. Where had her rash Gryffindor spirit gone? Deciding that he would play the game a bit in order to see what he could learn, he answered, "A little more than three months now."

Hermione nodded at him, "Came here to escape England's summer rain, I presume? I came here for an escape, too." Her eyes flickered over to her parents, before returning to her erstwhile Potions professor. "I was just telling Monica and Wendell that I arrived from London only yesterday."

"I hope that whatever it is you're escaping from will not keep you from London long," he said cordially while inside he was panicking. Could her reason for escaping be that Voldemort won, and she needed to flee? If that were the case, he would not be safe even here in Australia.

Hermione glanced at Monica and tugged on the braid behind her neck. "You and me both." She moved her glass up to her lips and took a sip, as though to wash a bad taste from her mouth. As she lifted her arm, the sleeve moved down across the skin revealing the last letter of her scar. She hurriedly shoved the sleeve down over the 'D' and asked Monica if she could help her with anything.

Severus watched each movement Hermione made as she lifted the glass of water to her mouth. Her pink, plump lips parted slightly as the glass touched them. Severus' eyes followed the material of her sleeve as it slid downward. To say that he was surprised to see her creamy skin suddenly marred by what looked like the letter 'D' would be an understatement. If she were not here to arrest him, then she was fleeing the Dark Lord's reign. Was she tortured? Was that why her skin was marked? His thoughts were interrupted when Hermione asked Monica if there was anything she could help her with.

Monica laughed warmly and assured her guest, "I've got it all. Why don't you and Stephen head out onto the porch and chat about home for a bit, while I finish up in here? We can all eat on the patio then." Hermione nodded and allowed Severus to lead her through the doors and onto the patio.

The couple made their way to the patio without saying a word. Millions of questions ran through his head; "Why are you here? Who won the war? Are you being tortured? Am I a wanted man?", but he asked none of them. It was his instinct as a double agent to be quiet and observe until he knew which of his roles to bring to the fore: Death Eater or Order member. Regardless, his upbringing would not allow him to disregard the politeness of pulling out Hermione's chair so she could sit. Once she was settled, he took his chair and moved it so that she would not be able to look directly at him.

Hermione smiled at him and murmured a quiet thanks for his polite gesture. She looked down into her glass and swirled the ice within it. What to say to him? What to ask him? How to tell him? Monica walked out and set four red plates and a handful of napkins on the table before smiling at them both and returning into the kitchen.

Hermione spoke, "Stephen, was it? You said you've been here for about three months now? Have you been working for the Wilkins all that time? Surely their garden isn't that large or detailed?" Her eyes glanced around at the pristine yard, and flicked further to see if any of the neighbors seemed like suspicious characters. If any other lingering Death Eaters had found her parents, against all odds, she would be ready to defend them.

Severus cleared his throat, "Mrs. Wilkins and her husband are very charitably-minded. When I arrived, I had no job, nor credentials to obtain one. I was staying at the local mission when I found a job advert for some gardening. Long story short, here I am. The garden was not as neat as this just several weeks ago. I have been revamping the entire layout as Mrs. Wilkins wished."

Monica appeared at the tail end of his answer. "And very good he has been at it, too!" She again smiled at the couple. "Of all our laborers, he's been the most trustworthy and dependable. Here," she placed a plate of sandwiches down. "Eat up!"

With a soft glare, she turned on Hermione and continued, "And you had better have two servings! Girls these days… too skinny. A real man wants a girl with more curves, doesn't he, Stephen?"

Severus choked a bit on his drink at Monica's outrageous allusion to a man's wants. Hell, he hadn't had a woman in over a year so any woman, curvy or stick thin, offering at this point would be welcome. He hoped the blush he could feel creeping up was seen as a reaction to the coughing fit he was having as he wiped up the drink he spit onto the table. Hermione blushed, but smiled at the rant of her mother's, which was so familiar.

Hermione reached for a sandwich and after receiving a very pointed glare, she grabbed another one and tucked in. While she was eating the first sandwich, Wendell joined them. He turned to Hermione and asked, "You said you recently finished schooling? And that you were job searching?"

Hermione nodded and drank a bit of water to wash down the bite of her sandwich. "Yes. We actually just had a memorial of sorts for my late headmaster from my sixth year. He was replaced by one of our professors for my final year." Hermione stiffly avoided Severus' gaze, stomach roiling against the small amount of food she had managed to eat. But, true to form, Monica was serving her another sandwich and a bit of fruit salad too.

"As for the job, well, I used to work as a receptionist in a dental office in London, but I stopped by the local office earlier and the receptionist, a lovely woman named Susan, said they weren't hiring, so I'm back at the drawing board."

Monica turned to Wendell. "Dear, Susan will be going on maternity leave in just two weeks. Could we have Hermione shadow her until then and fill in while she is away?" She turned to Hermione, "You'd understand that the job would only be while Susan is away. She would have her job to come back to."

"Really? You'd let me just… Thank you!" Hermione's eyes were bright at her parents' generosity to her, a girl they had just met. "I'd love to take you up on the offer! I can give you my résumé and things tomorrow! When do I start?"

Severus ate quietly as he listened to the conversation. He would have scoffed at how readily the Wilkins offered a job to an unknown woman, someone they had never met in their lives until about two hours ago, but within a half-hour of meeting him, they had given him the job he now worked. And he was damn thankful for it. His wages allowed him some independence and kept him busy. He would have gone crazy otherwise. He finished his sandwich and stood to bid the three a good evening and left.

After Severus left, Hermione stayed on a bit longer with the Wilkins, accepting their offer of biscuits and tea for afters. During the delightful small talk with the couple, she slid her wand out and began testing the barriers on the spell she had cast on them a year ago. Still holding strong. At least no deterioration had occurred; the consequences of that were terrible on the mind. She moved to begin reversing the spell, but had to tuck her wand out of sight as the couple's attention was returned to her.

"Well, I really must thank you both for a warm welcome and a job! I'll stop by here tomorrow to go over my résumé and credentials and discuss hours and things?"

"Sounds lovely," Wendell answered. "Meet here around eleven in the morning?"

Hermione smiled and promised her parents she'd be there, before wishing them a fond goodnight.

* * *

Severus was full of turmoil as he walked to the nearby shop to pick up some toilet tissue and toothpaste he knew he needed. While walking around the little grocery, he picked up a bit of chocolate as well. He had a sweet tooth, and it took a great deal of discipline not to overindulge. However, chocolate was a cure-all for Wizards, and he certainly could use some now.

He left the shop and made his way back to the boarding house. Greeting the men gathered in the common sitting room watching a football match, he made his way upstairs and sorted out his groceries. He had a small refrigerator for the necessary foods and a cupboard for his boxed items. A hotplate and a few basic pots and pans allowed him to fix simple meals. Severus grabbed his toiletries and a clean towel and went to have a shower.

An hour later, he was lying on his bed looking through the newspaper. Not able to concentrate on that, he grabbed the latest book he had borrowed from the library and opened it to his marked spot. After reading the same sentence several times, he tossed it to the floor. Damn it. He balled his fists and rubbed his eyes in frustration. Why did that chit have to show up and how had she found him?

Why? It was the elephant in the room right now. Why? He closed his eyes and thought about his day. When he first saw Hermione, he had an instant flight or fight reaction. Only years of being a spy allowed him to take in the big picture. Hermione hadn't noticed him nor had she heard him and if she had, she was too wound up in what she was about to do to recognize him.

He noticed that she was much thinner than she remembered. She wore a pair of Muggle jeans and a green short-sleeved shirt with a loose, long sleeved jumper over that. He couldn't tell if her hair was still bushy as she had it tied in a braid. She had taken one last look at a neatly scripted address written across the back of a receipt in her hand, stuffed it in her handbag and approached the door.

He watched her as she approached the house. It was a nice view. What the hell, Severus…the girl is a twit, remember that. He snorted. Perhaps it was time to discreetly ask one of his housemates where he might find a prostitute.

She must know the Wilkins for all she played dumb today. But how would she? She was from a nice family in London from what he remembered of her school record. Although if he remembered correctly, her parents seemed to have disappeared the summer before what should have been her seventh year. They were targeted for death, he knew, in an attempt to draw the girl to the Death Eaters. Perhaps Dumbledore had put them in a safe house. Either way, it still didn't explain her presence.

Severus ran through all he remembered of his encounters with the girl. Nothing significant beyond the fact she ran around causing trouble with Potter and the Ginger Jerk. He seemed to remember there was talk in the staff room of the three of them becoming Aurors. If she had indeed become an Auror, then perhaps she was here to find him and turn him in. He be damned if that happened. He had nearly resolved to pack his few belongings and head into the outback when another thought occurred to him, a thought that intrigued him. If she were here to turn him in, then why, when they were eating dinner, didn't she simply stun the Wilkins and then him? He laughed. Surely, she didn't think she'd be able to out duel him? No, he thought. She might not be there to get him, but there was another reason, and he was going to find out what that was. It might be to his advantage, if this all turned out to be a charade, and she was indeed here to turn him over to Azkaban.

Somewhat satisfied, he changed his clothes and slipped under the covers of his bed. He wondered if the red head would visit his dreams again tonight.

* * *

Hermione paced her hotel room, going over and over her notes on reversing Obliviation spells. According to the theory, because it had apparently never been done before, she simply had to perform a focused "Finite Incantatem" on the Obliviated individuals, and at the same time, perform an Emotion Neutralizing spell, to counteract any mental damage that could occur from her parents panicking while she performed the spell.

Good in theory, but she was afraid to cast the spell on her parents. Even if it worked, would they be so very forgiving of her for all she had done? If either Harry or Ron had Obliviated her, she'd have skinned the both of them alive and strung them up for scavengers to pick at. Nevertheless, she was able to defend herself against magic, whereas her parents were not. Therein lay the crux of the matter.

She kept herself up for half of the night, playing out every possible scenario in her head, trying to hope for the best and focus her energy on returning her parents to their former selves.

It just had to work. And then there was the whole odd mess about running into Severus Snape, of all people, to landscape her mum's garden. If that didn't send the mind reeling, nothing would. She could easily picture Ron's gape-mouthed expression when he learned, as well as Harry's laughter. But, for herself, she didn't know how to react.

What was he doing in Australia, working as a Muggle gardener? Would he be willing to help her with her parent's memories? He had been a noted Occlumens and Legilimens, as well as Potions Master and well-versed in the Dark Arts and defense against them.

* * *

Monica and Wendell were cuddled together in bed that evening watching the late news. When it was over, Wendell click off the telly and kissed his wife.

"Interesting day, don't you think?"

"Quite. Do you think it was odd that Hermione happened to show up?"

"A bit. She seemed skittish, you know. Sort of like Stephen did when he first started working here."

"You're right. But you know, they both look like they could use a friend. Stephen is never terribly talkative, even to us. They might make a cute couple. With her working for us, we could sort of nudge them together." Monica sounded delighted at her idea.

"Oh, no you don't! Your match-making is the reason we need a replacement for Susan in the first place!"

"Oh Wen, don't worry. There must be a huge difference in Stephen and Hermione's ages. But, perhaps they would be friends."

"Hmm," responded Wendell. "Monica, I could help but notice that Hermione reminded me a bit of you at that age."

"Go on. I never had teeth like that."

"No, but her smile reminded me of you."

"I suppose you're going to throw me over for a younger woman?" She smacked Wendell's arm.

Wendell rolled over and drew his wife under him. "Never, love, never." He palmed a breast through her flimsy nightgown. "You're the only woman I need." He kissed her deeply and there was no more talk of Hermione or Stephen that night.

* * *

Please remember to review!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: After a flurry of reviews from Gladstone natives, Worry has decided to let you know the Gladstone she picked was the one just north of Sydney. Thanks to all of our wonderful reviewers:

Disclaimer: The majority of the contents below belong to the richest woman in Great Britain. As we are both not in Great Britain, we can lay no claim to that title.

* * *

Hermione woke up late. Her morning started rather normally; yawning, blinking blearily around the hotel room she had reserved, and turning to glance at the clock on her bedside table that blinked a cheery 10:35 a.m. up at her.

"Bloody hell!" Borrowing Ron's favourite curse, she threw herself out of bed and brushed her hair back and into a simple bun. She grabbed her jeans and jumper, dressing herself in a rush. She slid her shoes on, grabbed her papers, purse and wand and apparated to the corner of the Wilkins' street.

She smoothed her hands over her clothes to make sure she looked tidy and walked quickly down the sidewalk, hoping not to be late to meet her father. A loud bus horn sounded from behind her, and she turned to glance at it and walked right into a firm chest. Warm arms reached out and caught her, hard fingers pinching into the tender skin on her forearms.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't looking and—"

"It's all right," said a voice that was not quite as deep as it would eventually be in a few more years.

Hermione turned to face her rescuer, meeting a startling pair of hazel eyes framed in shaggy brown hair. "Well, thanks for catching me." Her eyes moved down and focused on a kissable mouth surrounded by stubble that tempted her fingers.

"Pretty sheila like you falls my way, I'd be an idiot not to catch her." He winked, thinking he was being very smooth, but actually looking like something was in his eye causing irritation.

Hermione blushed and bit her lip, scrambling with something to say. "Uh, thanks again. I was just headed over to the Wilkins' to chat with Wendell about working in his dental office..."

"So that means you'll be around a bit? I've not seen you before, did you just move here? I can show you around if you want. Show you where to have some fun." As he spoke, he kept moving into Hermione's personal space, and she kept backing up.

Hermione smiled at him, trying to be polite but feeling a little uncomfortable. Has it really been so long that I've flirted that it feels so wrong? "Um, yeah, just got here a few days ago actually. And I haven't had a chance to get around to sightseeing just yet."

"Okay, love, I'll catch you up later and we'll get together, do a bit of sightseeing, yeah?"

"Sure, I'd like that. It was a pleasure to meet you." She moved to walk away and then stopped and turned around. "I'm Hermione by the way."

* * *

Severus was working on the final bed of herbs for the kitchen garden when he heard a bus horn and noticed movement to his left. From his vantage point in the back garden, he could see the part of the yard where the neighbour's patio met the Wilkins' property line. He watched, amusedly, as Hermione, distracted by the bus horn, slammed right into Drake, the Draco-clone from next door.

Drake was a little shite, in Severus' opinion. His attitude reminded him greatly of his good-for-nothing godson. Drake had not started Uni yet and therefore, spent most of the day loafing around and part of the day hassling him. These encounters consisted of Drake taunting Severus about his apparent drug/alcohol habit that caused him to become homeless, all three suppositions being incorrect. When that didn't fluster him, Drake would start in on the Wilkins' charitable acts, stating that they were only enabling the bludgers that worked at their home or who attended the soup kitchen at the mission.

"The politicians have got to stop spending money on you lay-abouts. You don't need more charity, you need to get off the streets, stop your nasty habits, and get a decent job. Not this day-to-day shite the goody two-shoes hand out."

Severus snorted at the boy's views delivered with all the conviction of someone who had yet to cut the apron strings. He heard the same crap from Draco about the superiority of purebloods. Severus typically ended Drake's diatribes by flinging a mild hex at the boy.

The way he flirted with Hermione was disgusting. As the pair stammered apologies, Severus noticed Drake slide his hands down Hermione's arms as though he were sizing up a piece of beef. And since when did a wink last that long? The boy looked like he was having some sort of seizure. Severus had seen enough as his years as a professor to know that teenagers were idiots when it came to flirting; not that he had any experience. He never had a girl to flirt with. Any time he was with a woman and trying to 'get a leg over', it usually involved an exchange of money and very little conversation. Regardless, he was fairly certain it did not involve the apparent dance moves—he moved two steps closer, she two steps back—that were occurring.

Watching as the pair finished their conversation he turned back to his work, wondering how long he'd have to keep busy before Hermione left so that she wouldn't see him.

* * *

Hermione moved closer to the house, after having passed an industrious Severus in the back yard. He seemed bent on ignoring her, so she returned the favour and walked around to the front of the house and down the main walkway, pausing to rap her knuckles on the door. Monica opened the door and seemed to intuitively understand Hermione's flustered appearance. She silently ushered Hermione in, while glancing back over the girl's shoulder. "So! Tell me all about it!"

"Hmm?" Hermione asked, mind still confused by her encounter with the shockingly handsome man.

"Were you flirting with Drake earlier? I saw you through the window. Don't deny it! I can see it all over your face!"

Hermione blushed, but rallied at the familiar matchmaking nature of her mother. "Is that his name? Drake?" The girl shuddered, recalling Draco and his gaunt face as he and his parents walked away during the battle.

Monica either didn't notice or, more likely, wrote it off as attraction. "Well, let me see, did he have hazel eyes you could plant dreams in? Long, brown hair your fingers just itched to touch? And did he stand about six-foot-gorgeous?"

Hermione laughed outright at the last bit that came complete with a hand measuring out the man in question's height. "Sure, Monica. Sounds like him. He asked me to go sightseeing with him later. How well do you know him?"

"Well," Monica's face brightened a bit, as she was elbow-deep in her favourite extra-curricular activity: playing Cupid. "His parents are our neighbours. I'm not sure when he goes off to Uni, but he's quite a polite young man, from what I've seen of him. I know he's a bit different from other lads his age, but I say give him a chance."

Hermione smiled at her mum and nodded, before reaching down to bring out her papers. "Here, I promised to bring my resume and school records." Hermione passed on her work record for Dr. and Dr. Granger and a forged school diploma, which listed her as Valedictorian, of course, because if you're going to lie, why not make it an honest lie?

"Well, this is very impressive, dear! Let me just go and fetch Wendell and we'll sit at the table. I've already got tea and things laid out, so make yourself at home!"

As Monica left to fetch her husband, Hermione pulled her wand out of her purse and began going over the spell one last time in her mind. She made a circle with her left hand, leading with the heel, as though she were steering a car in reverse. Her right hand held her wand tightly, wrist bent inward with her thumb up. Nunquiam Affectio, she thought to herself. Finite Memoriam Incantatem. She nodded to herself. I can do this.

She tucked her wand down to her side, hidden beneath the table as she idly stirred her Scottish breakfast tea. The robust smell wafted over her senses, calming her. I can do this, she thought again.

Her parents soon joined her in the dining room, and settled down with her for tea. Discussions of her work hours, her credentials, and her interests soon gave way to her school strengths and her plans for the future.

"I don't really know," she whispered honestly. "After school finished up, so many things just ended and others are never going to be the same. Then, on the last day of school, some friends died, and I'm still not over it, you know?"

"Was it one of them drunk drivers, love?" Hermione nodded, accepting whatever story they would cook up to cover the true horror behind the gaping losses of Fred, Remus, and Tonks. "Oh, I'm sorry."

Hermione nodded again. "It's just been hard, you know? One of them had a twin brother and whenever we see him… It's just hard." Her left hand rubbed at her sternum as though to soothe an ache that was building there. She glanced up at her parents with a melancholic look in her eyes and smiled. "Sorry about that." Her hand moved away from her aching chest and down to the table, fingers raised slightly as she prepared to perform both spells.

Her hands didn't shake, she wasn't sweating, and all her nervousness was gone. She was ready. While Wendell and Monica glanced over at a suddenly whistling and bubbling over teapot, she raised her wand arm. She moved her left arm in the circular motion, guiding with the heel of her hand, palm raised towards her parents, and she lifted her wand into the bent wrist position, before whispering the words, "Nunquiam Affectio; Finite Memoriam Incantatem."

Hermione glanced at her parents, heart beating with hope she had almost given up on.

* * *

Severus planted the final pallet of basil, cilantro, and lavender for the herb garden and stood up, wiping his brow. His job at the Wilkins' was finished, but next week he would begin the landscaping project Monica had in mind for the dental office. Severus chuckled at how much Monica reminded him of Pomona Sprout with her enthusiasm for gardening, although not necessarily the work involved. He was pleased he'd have a few more weeks of income, but wondered what he'd do after that. He spent his money carefully, visiting the mission a few days a week to stretch his dollars. There were always job adverts on the community board, so he figured he'd be all right. The only real worrying point right now was why Miss Granger was here.

As he picked up his tools and the empty pallet, a familiar drawl made his flesh shiver.

"Hey old man, did you check out that sheila they've got in there?" Drake nodded toward the house. "Although you checking out a young girl is just heaps pervy."

"Insolent twit. I do not 'check out' sheilas or any other women for that matter. It is uncouth." Severus sneered at the young man.

"Swing that way, eh?" Drake waggled his eyebrows at Severus, earning a glare from the Wizard.

"No, I do not. I happen to know more about women, and how to treat them properly, than you have hair on your scrotum, you little shite. As I have met Miss Granger, I doubt she'd fall for your pedestrian attempts at seduction."

"Oh, like she'd fall for yours?"

"As I have no intention of seducing," and he inwardly shivered at the thought of a liaison with the bushy haired student he remembered, "Miss Granger, there is no reason to wonder. I assure you however, if I was intent on doing so, your attempts would look as though you were over compensating for a lack of something else." Severus' eye flicked quickly downward and back again. "Good day."

Drake stood there, mouth hanging open. He attempted to splutter something about the size of Severus' cock and his inability to use it, but he couldn't get the words out. Instead, he lashed out, "Oh yeah? Well let me know where you live and when I finally get her in my bed, I'll let you know how good she was!"

Severus strode away from the angry young man with a smile on his face. Ruddy dunderheads never change, always the bravado to make up for lack of experience. As he walked, his mind went back to the staff room gossip regarding the more seriously involved couples at school. Madam Pomfrey was always good about letting slip who had asked for a contraceptive option, but Miss Granger's name, although aligned with Weasley's, was never one she let slip about that. Severus was fairly confident that if she could keep Weasley at bay, she'd have no trouble with Mr. Tiny Dick next door.

Setting the garden tools in the garage and the empty pallets in the garbage, Severus closed the door and headed home. A shower and a meal sounded very good right now. Perhaps he'd swing by the pub later for a pint.

* * *

Hermione tucked her wand down, ready for her parents to turn around and see her, remember her and open the floodgates for all sorts of lectures, reprimands, forgiveness, grief, and closure. The couple did turn around, and they did look at her. Her mum opened her mouth to speak, "Hermione, dear, if you could grab me a dishrag from that cabinet there?"

Hermione obeyed, wondering if it was Monica or Jean who was asking this. As she helped her parents tidy up and serve more tea, her mind was frantically racing, wondering if the Emotion Numbing spell was filtering their reactions. But how to ask them without asking them?

"So, tell me about your family," she offered as she carried a hot plate over to the table.

Her mum didn't miss a beat as she carried the kettle over to the teapot on the table. "There's not too much to tell, really. I'm an only child, and so is Wendell." Hermione's heart thudded sickly in her chest. Wendell? It didn't work… What did I do wrong?

"Oh, really? No one? And no kids?" Hermione's voice sounded hollow in her own ears, but she prayed Monica would write it off as fear of being impolite or just a cough. Anything but the grief and panic it was.

"No, no children. We were never able to have any. However, we like to help with others, in ways we never would have been able to with children. Stephen, for example, found our job posting at the local mission. We get to pay him an honest wage to support himself, and he isn't getting a handout. I like to think we are mutually beneficial to each other."

Hermione nodded automatically, fazed by the notion of her potions professor needing a handout. "He…erm. Does he live at the local mission?" She mentally cringed at the one who had already suffered so much to help them having to suffer more.

"He lives over on Water Street. Did you need to chat with him? I meant to give him his latest payment, but he left without stopping by. Would you take it with you? I'll jot his address down."

Hermione took the money without comment, just nodding. She Apparated to the address Monica had written on the envelope of money she had given to her.

* * *

E/N: So? And please review!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

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A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! Your responses are so wonderful to get!

Disclaimer: All the things you recognize, and even some things you don't are the lauded property of JK Rowling.

* * *

Deciding not the visit the pub tonight, but grabbing a few bottles from the shop on his way home instead, Severus now lay on his bed finishing off the third bottle. He had showered and eaten and was just lying on his bed reading and drinking. He tossed the magazine on the floor and with a few deep swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did, he polished off the last of his Foster's. With a burp, he set the bottle on the floor and flopped back on his pillow.

The small window of his bedroom was open to the fresh night air. Severus was comfortable as he lay bare-chested and in a pair of cotton lounging pants. He put his hands behind his head and ran the day's events through his head. Gods, he hated that shite-for-brains next door. He was glad that he was finished at the Wilkins' house so he wouldn't have to face him again. Five long weeks of putting up with his dunderheaded comments had nearly driven him to do a full on wand directed hexing session.

Severus was galled over Mr. Tiny Dick's callous attitude toward Miss Granger. Regardless of how he felt about the royally named member of the Golden Trio, a woman deserved respect and the right not to be treated like a piece of meat. Severus had grown up with his Muggle father bleating in his ear about putting women in their place, and his Death Eater days had taken care of any dominant fetishes he might have nurtured in his youth.

He shook his head to rid him of those thoughts. Miss Granger certainly had grown up he had to admit, and he could see the boy's attraction. Severus thought about his quiet observation of her at dinner last night. Her hair was darker than he remembered. Her face looked less adolescent as well, but he could see that it was also a bit too thin, as though she had spent time without eating as regularly as she should. Her almond-shaped brown eyes glittered in the patio light, but held a sadness he couldn't place. Had she lost loved ones in the war? What of her parents? What of the Weasley's, his fellow teachers? A whole list of 'what of's' if he let himself think that far.

He didn't want to think that far, so he thought about Miss Granger. Just what was she doing here? He was no closer to finding out, and today offered no further clues either. Drake's parting shot to him wandered into his alcohol fuzzy brain, and although he adamantly rebuked the Mr. Tiny Dick next door of his assumptions that he perved after young girls, he couldn't help but wonder just what Miss Granger might be like in bed.

Through the blouse she had worn yesterday, he could see that she was moderately endowed. Certainly more than a handful each, he chuckled to himself. His body reacted to the thought of her breasts and his cock stirred. He moved one hand down to stroke it through the cotton. In his muzzy headed state, it felt especially pleasurable.

Miss Granger's waist dipped beautifully above moderately wide hips, hips that promised to be lush if she would gain a bit of weight. The thought of those hips grinding against him brought his cock to a full erection, and its head pressed against the waist of his pants. Severus loosened the tie and pushed the material down to expose his full length. Teasing his foreskin back and then using his thumb to spread the bit of moisture that started to appear, he began to stroke himself. So as not to seem like a complete leech, he turned his mind to a certain red head to help fuel this pleasure.

He continued to stroke, giving his wrist a twist as he stroked the head. A light sheen of sweat broke out on his chest. Opening one eye to quickly check out the location of some tissue, he began to pick up a bit of speed. He let out a rather loud moan that turned into a snarl of consternation when footsteps stopping outside his door and then a firm knock on the door derailed any further pleasure.

Fumbling with his pants and leaping out of bed at the same time, he stubbed his toe and hollered, "Fuck!" He was about to reach for the handle of his door when he realized his other handle was still prominent. Grabbing the newspaper from the stand by the door, he held it over his groin in what he hoped was a casual manner. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the door open. Hermione Granger stood in his doorway looking less like the woman he had been thinking about and more like the frightened girl he last saw the night Albus died.

"Hello, sir. I was hoping to talk with you. May I come in?" she moved her hand through her hair anxiously, but held eye contact with the man who had once been her teacher.

"It's not enough that you tracked me to Australia, you have to hound me in my home, such that it is?"

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes and walked in past the man, in her frustration not even caring at her lack of manners. "Yes, because my arrival in Australia had everything to do with you and nothing to do with my own choices!"

"Have you been ordered to arrest me?" Severus snarled and threw his paper down no longer needing it.

Hermione stopped where she stood, glancing back at him, silhouetted against the still open door. "W-what? No. Why would I arrest you?"

"Are you not part of the glorious new Auror squad at the ministry, fearlessly tracking down Death Eaters and murderers?" Severus sneered at her.

"N-no. I'm not an Auror. I'm not here to arrest anyone. And you're not a murderer. You're a war hero. You've got no mass of angry Aurors waiting for you, but an Order of Merlin, Second Class. We tried to make it a first, but-"

Severus, for once in his life thoroughly perplexed, cut her off with a splutter. "Order of-war hero? Miss Granger, what the HELL are you blithering on about?" What the hell has happened? Which side won for Merlin's sake!"

"The Ministry had you declared a war hero and awarded you an Order of Merlin. Didn't you know? Or is the Australian Ministry that far behind on foreign affairs?" She trailed off, eyeing his small apartment. "So, clearly, I'm not here to arrest you." She swallowed painfully. "I'm actually here to ask for your help."

Severus scrubbed his face and huffed out a sigh. "Miss Granger, please sit. I think we need to backtrack a bit." Severus pulled a straight back chair away from his small writing desk and placed it near his bed. Once Hermione was seated, he sat on the end of his bed.

"I am sorry for the small surroundings; this is as far as my salary will go these days. I assume you mean that the Dark Lord was killed and I was, perhaps, exonerated of any wrong doing?"

"Yes; and you don't have to apologize. It's incredible, actually, for anyone whose profession and education were mainly magical to be able to support himself and survive in a Muggle world. It isn't something to be sorry for." She curled her arms in around herself, rubbing along her arms for comfort. "This is so strange. When I planned to come here, I never figured on running into you, let alone sitting in your living room, bedroom, erm, great room?" She winced at the uncertainty she heard in her voice, but at least it wasn't the panic she felt over her parents response to the spells.

"There was a second reading of Dumbledore's will, after the battle, and it explained your part in... well, he made it seem like everything, but I'm sure there was more you did that he didn't know about."

"More than anyone will ever know," Severus agreed. "Before I ask you just exactly why you are here, tell me, who did we lose?"

"Far too many." She swallowed before continuing, "We lost Tonks, Remus, and Fred." She wiped fiercely at the tears that tracked along her cheeks without permission. "We also lost Lavender Brown, Colin Creevey, and several others. The…um. All the Slytherins who weren't standing beside Tom had been locked in the dungeons. Mostly first through third years. We tried to get to them, but someone had used FiendFyre and... I'm sorry."

Severus sat stunned at the news. He had tried, Merlin knows he had tried to sway his snakes to be neutral and for the littlest of his snakes, he tried to protect them as best he could. Not being able to keep his face composed at the news, he stood suddenly and walked over this the window. He leaned an arm against the pane of glass, his head resting on his sleeve, and stared out at the horizon.

Behind him, he could hear Miss Granger softly weeping. Inhaling a snort of snot of his own, he moved back to the bed, picking up the tissue box and handing it to her. "You said you needed some help, he said as he sat again.

She blew her nose and grabbed a new tissue to wipe her eyes. "Yes, I didn't mean to be crying, I just... I've had another shock. You see, back before Harry, Ron, and I went after the Horcruxes, I Obliviated my parents or their memories of me anyway. I gave them new names and sent them to the other side of the world. To keep them safe in a war they couldn't fight.

"That is very advanced magic, Miss Granger."

"Hermione, please call me Hermione. After the war, formalities seem a bit much, don't you think?"

Severus smirked. "Perhaps you're right, Hermione." He looked consideringly at the woman seated near him. "The magic you performed was very precise. I've only seen Dumbledore perform it successfully. Others not quite as skilled have crippled the people they were Obliviating."

"Thank you, Severus." She paused to roll the foreign name on her tongue before continuing, "And I know it's advanced, but I had little other choice. I wasn't going to be there to protect them, and I could hardly trust the Ministry to step right up and do that, could I? Not when most of them were hands, ears, and eyes for the late Dark Lord?"

Severus nodded his head in agreement, and suddenly the knut dropped. He cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. "Hermione, where are your parents now?"

She gave a wry chuckle. "My mother actually just gave me your pay for finishing up her herb garden. Seems you left without it." Hermione reached down into her purse and pulled out an envelope with his address on it, handing it to him.

Severus took the envelope from her and tossed it on the mattress. "Thank you." He looked at her for a long minute. "I assume you tried to reverse the spell today?"

"I already attempted the joint Finite and Emotion Nullifying Spells...no results. All the research I've done insisted that this was the only spell which could reverse a modified memory."

"It may be difficult for me to help you. As you can see, I don't have much here in the way of books, and I haven't made contact with any of the Wizarding communities here not knowing what my circumstances were as a war criminal or not." Hermione nodded.

Severus stood and paced a bit. "When it comes to Oblivation, the key is ensuring that you've removed even the tiniest moment of the memory that may act as a wedge or springboard to opening the memory again. It is what separated Dumbledore from all others at the skill of Oblivation. It is also why Oblivation works so successfully for the immediate short term situation.

"Unless your parents have been very open with you regarding nearly every detail of your presence in their life, from conception to the very last moment you saw them, there should be some point that, if acted on, opened like a lock to a safe, should cause all the other memories to fall into place."

Hermione thought a moment. "So what you're saying is, in order to cause a cascade effect of memory return, I need to find the one memory I did not Obliviate, however inconsequential, and prod it open. Once they register that memory, the rest should return."

"Indeed. However, regardless of your skill, I would say it make take you many weeks to find that memory."

"I don't know how long I could stay here. I don't have much money; the job at the dental office will only last about six months. I can't stay in the hotel the whole time." Hermione twisted her hands.

Severus, without thinking, said, "There is a room available here. You could take it. The rent is minimal. All of the lets are similar to mine. You are allowed the same amenities. You'd have to share a bathroom, of course. And you'd be the only female in the building."

Hermione nodded. "I'll take you up on that offer. Whom do I talk to in order to live here? I've got some money, but I used up most of it while we were…on the run." Hermione idly moved her right hand to rub her left forearm. A soft glimmer—the telltale sign of a glamour charm—seemed to surround it for a moment, but then faded.

Severus' magic recognized the signature of the glamour, but said nothing of it. He also recalled her having scrabbled to pull her sleeve down as she drank a glass of water on the day they first met. He would ask her about it, but for now, he would get her settled and see about her parents' memories.

The couple walked down the stairs to the ground floor. Off to the left was a narrow door labeled, 'Manager'.

"Here," Severus said. "This is where Mr. Higgenhot lives. He is the manager of the building. Strange little man," Severus rubbed his chin, "puts you in mind of Malfoy's old house elf; you know, the one that took such a liking to Potter?"

Hermione winced inwardly. Little Dobby lay on the beach outside Shell Cottage, having died a hero, but Severus didn't know that.

Severus knocked quickly at the door, and in a moment, a galumphing and heavy throat clearing announced the arrival of Mr. Higgenhot answering the door.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Mr. Higgenhot," Severus said. "I believe there is a room for let on my floor. My friend here (and oh how that hurt Severus' tongue to say), needs a room. I can vouch for her."

The cigar that sat in the corner of the fat man's drooling mouth quirked upward. "Well now," said Higgenhot sleazily, "we could do with a girl around the place. Would be a treat amongst all you ugly mugs."

Severus put his arm around Hermione. "She's like a sister to me, you see. I am quite protective of her; I am sure you understand."

The cigar drooped. "Well, if can she pay the first month up front, she can have the room."

Hermione thanked and paid the balding man and took the keys to her new residence from him with a smile. Severus accompanied her up the stairs to her room—the one across from his. She said a quiet good night, reaching out her hand to grip his for a moment. "Thank you, Severus. Good night." She closed her door behind her and looked around her small home.

Her shoulders felt suddenly stiff and her legs felt leaden. She laid her purse on the bedside table, used her wand to transfigure the sheets into something more comfortable and tucked herself in, fully clothed. She was out within minutes.

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	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Six Months Later

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Severus sat at the table in the mission house, eating his lunch. He was at loose ends at the moment, having completed the landscaping at the dental office and moved on to more day-to-day jobs. He was not worried about money a great deal; between the Friday night dinners at the Wilkins that had become a fixture in his life—even if they included Hermione—lunches at the mission and preparing simple dinners, he managed to live comfortably.

Well, actually, he was glad the dinners include Hermione. Their interactions while he worked at the clinic were brief but friendly. They often ate lunch together and discussed Hermione's recollections of her parents in an attempt to find the key to unlocking their memories. They would walk to and from work, sometimes stopping at the mission for dinner, or going to one another's rooms to share cooking duties.

One weekend they even Apparated into the Wizarding community Hermione discovered about 50 kilometres away from Gladstone. Although they enjoyed being able to freely use magic for the day, they realized they enjoyed living in the Muggle community more, even if it meant a more cautious use of their magic.

The Wilkins had become firm friends to the couple. Friday night dinners happened as a result of the 'subtle' matchmaking efforts of Monica. After they ate, they played cards or word games such as Scrabble. Severus had a bit of difficulty at first because of his tendency to want to use Wizarding terms, but after Hermione suggested he stick to Muggle literature for inspiration, he took to the game quite nicely.

The friendship was also a learning experience for each member. Severus began to teach Wendell the basics of home repair and how to use tools, and Monica began to teach Hermione how to crochet (knitting having been conquered in her fourth year at school) and cook. Hermione used these sessions to carefully ask questions about the couple's life in an attempt to learn any information that might be helpful to their recovery.

When Severus found out when Hermione's birthday was, he asked Monica if she would be willing to bake a cake if he bought the ingredients. She readily agreed, and having changed their weekly supper night to coincide with Hermione's birthday, they surprised her with cake, ice cream, and gifts. Knowing Hermione's fondness for Shakespeare, Severus was able to find a somewhat reputable looking copy of his entire works at one of the second hand shops in Gladstone. Hermione was deeply touched at their efforts.

Perhaps the only thing that did not sit well with Severus was the fact that Hermione had started to date Drake. The first night Drake showed up at the boarding house was three months ago. Hermione's rooms were on the same floor as Severus', so he often heard her coming and going. On that particular evening, he happened to be leaving the bathroom when he saw 'Mr. Tiny Dick' next door knocking on Hermione's door. Severus sneered as he passed the boy, trying not to acknowledge the burning in his stomach at the thought of his Hermione with the pig. The fact that he thought of her as 'his Hermione' did not register at all.

It was Severus' attempt to be concerned about Hermione's dalliance with the boy that led to their first fight. It happened one Saturday night when she had come to his room to ask a favour. She had chosen a dress with a rather long zipper at the back, and she could not get it up all the way. She entered the room and turned, exposing her back to the older man. "Would you mind?" she asked.

Severus had to take several deep breaths before he willed his hands to touch the dress and finally pull up the zipper. Gods, it was a lovely back. Hermione had begun to put on weight so her hips were curvier now, but her waist was still tiny. His fingers touched her smooth soft skin and both of them reacted; Hermione with a shiver, and Severus with tightening in his groin. For some reason, this irritated him and he spoke rather curtly to her about her upcoming date.

"I take it you're going with Drake again?"

"What of it?" Hermione turned to face her friend. "He's a nice boy."

"Trust me, Hermione, boys like him are not nice."

"You don't know him, how can you say that?"

"I spent several long weeks being annoyed by him when I worked at Monica and Wen's house. He would come over and pester me, spouting on about how I was a layabout alcoholic/drug addict, and I shouldn't be taking handouts as it would 'enable' me." Severus crooked his fingers in the air as he spoke. "It reminded me of the pureblood shite that Draco used to spew to whoever would listen."

"Yes, Drake told me about how he would talk with you." Hermione had turned to face Severus now, her arms crossed beneath her breasts, which only served to push them up so that the tops were exposed from her neckline. "He also said that for some reason whenever he talked to you, he seemed to be met with accidents such as tripping or falling. He'd get stung by bugs he couldn't see. Funny that, don't you think?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.

"Accident prone, I'd say. I don't like him, and I don't think you should see him." Severus crossed his own arms on his chest.

"You are not my father! You have no right to tell me what to do or who I can see or not see. You're not even my professor anymore!" She stamped her foot.

"I am an adult, and you are not, and I can see what you do not!"

"I AM AN ADULT, you twat! Did we not just celebrate my 20th birthday?"

"Name calling…very adult, Miss Granger," Severus said drolly.

Hermione snarled in frustration. "Miss Granger now, is it? Fine then." She turned to the door. "I am an adult, Mr. Snape, and I can act as I see fit. You are in no position of authority over me and therefore, I can choose to ignore your advice. Good night." She slammed the door behind her as she left, leaving Severus frustrated at her sudden outburst.

Frustrated because whom she dated or where she went of an evening should not bother him in the slightest. This was the bushy-haired know-it-all Princess of Gryffindor who had driven him crazy with her constant hand waving in class and her penchant for getting into trouble with St. Potter and his sycophantic sidekick. No closer to answering his own question, Severus grabbed his wallet and keys and headed to the nearest pub for some liquid obliviation of his own.

Hermione huffed. She was out on a date with Drake. Again. He was a nice enough boy, if disturbingly like Draco in his attitude and mannerisms, but he enjoyed spending time with her, taking her to fabulous places—lavish restaurants, interesting sight-seeing, and one highly memorable trip in a shark cage.

Hermione had made sure to have her wand with her at all times, and had ended up recalling with distinct clarity the shuddering emotions that had flooded her body when Viktor Krum—complete with shark head—had pulled her out of the lake. As the great white circled their weak protection field, she could feel herself breaking through the surface of the Black Lake in the arms of the Quidditch star-cum-shark, and she felt the panic that collided with the chilled air she was swallowing into her lungs with a greedy fervor. He, at least, had returned to his human form. Those great, terrifying things didn't provide that option; in fact, that whole date had been quite the debacle. She was stressed and nervous when she clambered out of the steel death trap, Drake had been teasing her, and she had snapped at him.

"Forgive me if I don't enjoy taunting death."

"Aw, come on, sheila, it's just a laugh. You need to relax more."

"And in order to induce relaxation in me, you planned to shove me in a steel box surrounded by 1000-toothed killing machines, all underwater, with no greater weapon than an oxygen tank. You're right! It's all my fault for becoming more tense!" She had stormed off and ignored him for a full week.

She knew it wasn't really his fault. He had been trying to take her on an interesting date, and he had no idea she had been through a war, making it through by the skin of her teeth and the shavings of her wand.

So, here she was, dolled up and wearing a flattering red dinner dress. She stood at the front door of her apartment, constantly checking her watch and fidgeting as she waited for him. He should have been here at 7:00, she thought. And now it's… 7:12. Where was that little ferret-face? She stomped her heeled foot for a moment and checked on the glamour charm over her scar one last time. She hated putting the glamour on for very long periods of time as it itched, but in a sleeveless dress, she had little choice.

A sharp rapping at her door had her huffing before she composed herself. "Coming," she called, even as she stood beside the door, and counted to ten silently. Once she reached the last number, she reached out and pulled the door open. "Hello, Drake."

He was dressed in a three-piece suit, with his hair slicked back. She gave him a small smirk, biting down on her tongue to keep from laughing. Would she ever see him differently from Draco? Ever since Severus had pointed it out, it was always there, lying across his holier-than-though features, taunting her.

"Hermione, good that you're ready. Shall we go? I've got the car waiting below." Hermione nodded at him, shut off the lights, closed and locked the door, and walked with her boyfriend to the lift.

She made small talk in the car as they drove to the restaurant, but she kept going back to what Severus had said about Drake. Sure he looked a bit like him, and had a bit of his snobbishness, but didn't all the rich have that? A sense of entitlement was bred into them, and how could she instantly write off this one if he was similar to that one?

She sighed, and he cocked his head at her, but didn't pause in his detailed description of his luncheon with the local head of some law firm or something. She was a bit hazy on the details. He pulled over in front of a posh looking place in the city. She wasn't even sure which one it was, she had been so wrapped up in playing Severus' words over and over in her mind. Mr. Snape's rather, she thought childishly.

Huffing out her breath as she climbed out of the car, she walked alongside Drake as the valet took the car keys. "Right this way, milady." She smiled up at Drake. Was it really his fault he made her think of Draco? Of course not. She resolved to put her best foot forward for the rest of the night as she smiled up at him.

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E/N: Thank you to every reviewer!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

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A/N: A huge thanks to all of our reviewers!

Disclaimer: Severus is damn well ours. :P

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Hermione stood in front of Severus' apartment door, knocking as loudly as she could. "Don't you ignore me, you great tosser! Open up so I can tell you that you were right!" She was still pounding on the door when it swung inward, her fist narrowly missing his face.

"Sorry," Hermione said. "I… Can I come in?

Severus raised an eyebrow and sneered at the same time. "Of course I'm right. Now come in and don't air your dirty laundry in public." He flapped his hand in the direction of his small table where she usually sat. "What happened to lead you to this great revelation?"

Hermione settled onto the familiar wooden chair and snorted at him. "I don't air my anything near you. He was a pompous ass and you were right. Now hand over your finest Ogden's. I know you've got some. Merlin, I hate being wrong!"

Severus chuckled inwardly at the little witch and stood to retrieve the demanded drink. In their time together, he found he could easily rile her up. He enjoyed the way her eyes snapped, and the blush that formed on her chest. He grabbed the bottle from his kitchen cupboard and two glasses. Returning to the table, he placed a glass in front of her and poured a measure. She snatched it up and threw it back, signaling for another.

"Easy, this stuff will knock you on your arse." Severus sat down, poured his own drink and refilled hers. "Hermione, it was not my intention to color your feelings about Mr. Tiny-I mean Drake. I was only concerned that you might get hurt. You are vulnerable right now; your work to retrieve your parents' memories is very stressful, and I fear you might not be making the best of decisions regarding your personal life."

"I can hold my liquor. I drank George under the table at Fred's wake." She held out her glass for a refill, rocking it from side to side impatiently. "And he was an arse, and I let him kiss me, so I deserve to get myself completely trashed, now pour some more." Severus complied. "And vulnerable? I've been vulnerable before. I was held to a floor and Crucioed and carved and peeled for information. Right now I'm stressed, and maybe I wasn't paying attention to it, but I am not vulnerable." She knocked back her refill and glared at him pointedly. Or over his left shoulder, but still pointedly.

Severus was stunned. What the hell? Carved? Peeled? "What do you mean carved and peeled? What the hell happened when you were traipsing around Britain?"

"Didn't Bellatrix tell you? She seemed so proud of her accomplishments; twenty-seven Crucios and no memory loss... and her handwriting. Finite Incantatem." With the words of the spell, Hermione's bare arm seemed to shiver, and then skin peeled back, shaping the wound of the foul word 'Mudblood'. "I was sure she'd have told you, before the last battle..."

Severus gaped at the wound on Hermione's arm. No, Bellatrix did not tell him. Involuntarily, he reached for Hermione's arm and rubbed the letters. Realizing what he was doing, he dropped her arm. "No, she did not tell me, but then I was busy at the school. I never saw her again after Charity Burbage's death." Severus took a long sip of the whisky. "Hermione, I am sorry. I am sorry for what you went through. I may know something that will help lessen the redness. I assume you feel the magic?"

"Yeah, it hasn't fully healed, but Poppy did what she could. It was purplish before and ached if anyone touched it. I still pull away sometimes, when people grab for my arm."

"Every time you've flinched, I've seen it. Not just sometimes." Severus' eyes were still pinned on the marred limb, gaze focusing on the flesh, but his mind whirling through resolutions to the equation it presented. "Perhaps a moonstone and full moon dew from the Aconite leaves will soothe the redness and dull the throbbing of her magical signature. I'm not fully certain what might completely dilute your signature… Perhaps a second application of spells across the affected area to replace hers? Or perhaps—"

"Perhaps you'll leave the problem alone for tonight and fill my glass again," Hermione interrupted.

Severus refilled her glass, but continued in his theoretical musings undaunted. "Well, maybe the application of a gillywater and dandelion poultice, conjoined to a wrapping of dried Cornish pixie flesh—"

"Ew, ew, ew. More whisky. No Cornish pixie flesh is touching me, pissed or sober. I don't care what that woman did to me against my will. I trust your skills as a Potions Master and Dark Arts specialist, but I draw the line at Cornish pixies." She knocked back her next drink, and wobbled a bit as she came back up.

Severus laughed at her wrinkled nose and wobbliness. "I think you'd better slow down, Hermione. You're getting drunk."

"No more drunk than you, Sev-hic-Severlus. Now pour me another one, and no more talk of wixie pings or I'll vomit on your shoes."

Severus poured them each another and then looked at the bottle ruefully. "This is near the end. If you want anything else, it won't be whisky." He set the bottle down and picked up his glass. "So…..just what did Mr. Tiny-Dick next door do anyway?"

"That's just it. Mr. Tiny-Dick decided he wanted me to see his tiny dick." Hermione noticed Severus sat up with what looked like fury on his face. "We were at a club dancing, and it was quite dark, only the lights from the DJ booth to light the area. He had taken my hands to put them on his hips, or so I thought. Somehow in the midst of the dancing, he had undone his trousers, and he was actually going to put my hands on his cock!" Hermione slapped her glass down and some of the whisky sloshed out. "When I had the nerve to protest, he said I had been panting for it and was only giving me what he knew I wanted."

"That little cock sucker!"

"Yeah, well he can find someone else to suck his cock, but first he has to wait until it grows back," Hermione giggled.

"What did you do, Hermione?" Severus smiled at the same time evilly and delightedly.

With all the innocence she could muster in her drunken state, she answered, "I used a wandless Microphallus curse and left as quickly as I could. I Apparated from the club to here."

"Won't the Australian Ministry come after you?"

"Severus, we've used magic for months. If they haven't found us yet, they won't. Somehow, I don't think they are as worried about the Statute of Secrecy as they are in England."

Severus burst out laughing. "You know Hermione, at school, you were the talk of the staff room many evenings."

"Was I?" Hermione's eyes widened in surprise.

"Yes, it was the consensus of the staff that it was not a good idea to tick you off. You are a brilliant witch, young lady, but Merlin help the poor sod who pisses you off! We took bets in September to see which of your two hangers on would be hexed first. Minerva often won." Hermione burst out laughing.

Severus poured the final bit of whisky into their glasses and held his up indicating Hermione should do the same. "To Hermione Jean Granger, the brightest witch of her age, but don't tick her off!"

"To Severus Tobias Snape, a brave man, and a very good friend. "

Both tossed back their final shots and looked a long time at each other.

"You are a good friend too, Hermione, but I'll argue you on the brave part."

Hermione stood and made to leave, but stopped at his chair. "You are a brave man, Severus. Never let anyone tell you otherwise." She bent and kissed his cheek then scurried, somewhat wobbly, out the door.

Severus watched Hermione close the door to her room and then closed his. He zigzagged to his bed, attempting to undress at the same time, falling onto his bed where he wrestled a few minutes as he tried to figure out how to get the sheet and blanket over his body while lying on top of them. He finally managed to get the bed linens wrapped around his waist and gave up.

Putting his hands behind his head, Severus thought about the woman that was Hermione Granger. He hadn't meant to get her drunk; he hadn't meant to get himself drunk, but between listening to her disastrous date and attempting to yet again figure out what recollection would trip her parents memories, the whiskey flowed freely.

He liked Hermione a lot. She had become a very good friend to him over the last six months. She was his only link to England and the Wizarding world and for that reason, they both gravitated to each other. Time spent with her as they discussed her parents and their day to day life, and the time spent at Monica and Wen's were the happiest he had known in a long time. Even the days walking back and forth to the dental clinic were pleasant. Now that he didn't work for the Wilkins, he missed seeing her throughout the day and looked forward to their evenings together. Sometimes they went to see a film, sometimes to the Wizarding community of Abbotslea or just for walks along the wharf.

This friendship felt more mature than the friendship than he had with Lily. It was more of a mutual relationship built on trust and common interests rather than a desperate need to fill a hole in his life that was missing. Regardless of the age gap, he felt closer to Hermione than anyone in his whole life.

Severus laughed…despite Monica's none-too-subtle attempts at matching making, he had indeed fallen into very deep like for Hermione.

He was happy to realize he liked her as more than just a friend, but his old self-doubts nagged at him. The age gap could be an issue for Hermione. She should date men more her age and less saddled with such a horrific background. If he approached her to ask her for more than just a friendship, she would surely push him away. But if she didn't? Where would it lead? She was very pretty, he admitted to himself. Sexy even. He ripped his pillow out from under his head and held it over his face, growling into it. What the hell was he supposed to do? He thought of Monica and Wen. Perhaps they might have some advice.

Monica and Wen…this couple also became a welcomed part in his life. Although they were only about ten years older than him, they were as near to parents as he could have wanted. His own parents were useless. His father, Tobias, was drunken sod who couldn't hold a job, and his mother, Eileen, was a worn down witch who couldn't protect herself or her son.

The Wilkins were bright and vibrant and so helpful and willing to be his friend. The time spent teaching Wen to use his own tools was eye-opening, and Monica's gentle urging to eat another helping or 'let me fix that hole in your jacket' was everything he longed for. Yes, he liked this couple very much and deep down, considered them the parents he never had.

Severus began to sweat, as any person who drank too much just a few short hours before and got up to open his window. He stood a minute allowing the cool night air to wash over him. This unfortunately made his bladder realize it wanted some relief, so he shuffled back to his bed area and picked up his cotton lounging pants and headed to the toilet. Once he returned his room, he situated the covers so he could properly cover himself and once in bed, fell dead asleep.

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	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thanks to all of our reviewers! Hope everyone pulled through Sandy ok!

Disclaimer:Not my property, and yet...

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Chapter 7

Hermione blinked her eyes open to the sound of thunder. She tried to stand up, only to find that she was apparently in the middle of an earthquake as the floor was diving left and right away from her stockinged feet. Someone was shouting her name at her, and shooing her apparently. Was this a dream? She blinked against the blinding light—what was happening?—and stumbled over to the front door, because she recalled that during an earthquake one should stand in a doorframe. She opened her door and came face to face with Severus.

Severus had gotten up the next morning a bit bleary-eyed. His head was pounding, and it felt like there was a dead rabbit in his mouth. He stumbled over to the small cupboard where he kept his food and some of the medicinal potions he had purchased in Abbotslea.

Once he downed a hangover potion, he grabbed clothes and towel and headed to the bathroom to clean up. As he passed Hermione's door on the way back to his room, he wondered how she felt this morning.

He put a rasher of bacon into the frying pan to cook and as he was picking up the glasses they had drunk from the night before, he noticed Hermione's shoes under the table. Putting a stasis charm on his breakfast, he picked up the shoes, grabbed an extra vial of hangover potion, and headed across the hall to her room.

He pounded on her door and in a minute, heard some stumbling from within. The door cracked open, and he saw a bleary, brown eyeball peek out, and then the door opened wider. One hand was in his pocket, the other was holding her pumps out for her. She clutched the doorframe for support and tried to focus on his imposing figure. "What happened?" she asked, tongue feeling dry and tasting foul.

"You attempted to use alcohol to erase the memories of your wrongdoings, and the taste of Mr. Tiny-Dick's tongue from your own. Apparently, successfully." He smirked. "You left your shoes on my table. I don't recall the details of how they arrived there."

Severus stepped past her into her apartment and helped her to close the door. "Come on and sit down, I've got a hangover cure potion for you once you're sitting. It's done wonders for me."

Hermione allowed herself to be led to a sturdy perch, focusing on the odd thought that he was touching her, and gently, with care for her arm. Her great brain was overworked at the moment, and it decided to stop working on operating her lungs as it attempted to unravel this new mystery. She choked and gasped, as a pink potion, as thick as Pepto Bismol went down her throat, but then her mind cleared and her aches vanished.

"I was about to eat breakfast in my room. Would you like to join me?"

"Sure."

The pair made their way to Severus' room the air between them was stilted and polite. Severus quickly made another plate of eggs and toast and placing it on the table across from his own plate, he motioned for Hermione to sit.

"Listen, Severus, about last night. I am sorry I got a bit, um…"

"It's all right. You are under a lot of stress between your job and returning your parents memories."

"I know, but that's no excuse." She looked at her plate and pushed her eggs around. "I am sorry I didn't listen to you about Drake. I'm sorry I acted like a schoolgirl when you tried to tell me otherwise."

"It's all right, Hermione," Severus assured her. Silence fell as they finished their food.

"What are you going to do today?" Hermione asked.

"I need to do my laundry," Severus replied, "and get a few groceries. I have some books to return to the library as well."

"Oh," Hermione's eyes brightened and she smiled. "I haven't been to the library in ages. When you go, would you mind if I tagged along?"

"No. I will do my laundry first and then go, say in about two hours?"

"That's fine. I need to write some letters and clean my room."

"I shall knock when I am ready to go."

Two hours later, Severus knocked on Hermione's door. She was slipping into her cardigan as she opened it. "Ready?"

"Of course." Hermione grabbed her books and they left. It was a nice afternoon the library was not far, so they walked rather than Apparated. After a few hours in the library, the couple left, newly chosen books in hand.

Hermione followed Severus into his apartment, unthinkingly, nose already buried in the third chapter of her book. She settled beside him onto the couch they usually shared when she visited. She read a few lines, and then glanced up at Severus. Her eyes continued dancing between his face and the pages, but her mind stayed focused on the small detail that had riveted her attention this morning.

Hermione's stomach growled and she looked at Severus sheepishly. "It's such a nice day, why don't we take our books, get something for lunch and head to the park?" she suggested.

"I'd like that."

The couple headed to the Gladstone Park, stopping along the way to buy some sandwiches, crisps, and drinks. Once at the park, they found a semi-secluded bench and sat down with their lunch. As they ate, they talked about Monica and Wendell, acutely avoiding the topic of their memories.

It was after a lull in the conversation, as they finished their lemon squash, that Hermione asked, "Severus, do you think you'll ever go back to England?"

Severus was thoughtful. "I don't know. What would there be there for me? I certainly don't want to teach again. I've no idea what's become of my house. I imagine the Ministry took what's left."

Hermione finished her sip of drink. "Actually, Minerva had the Hogwarts elves move your belongings to the castle after the war. You were smart to leave your memories for her to find. I told you, you are considered a hero to the Light."

Severus shifted uncomfortably and changed the focus of discussion to Hermione's future plans. "What are your future plans?" He reached over and flicked Hermione's nose.

"Ow!" She slapped him. "Well, my job at the dentistry will continue. I forgot to tell you last night given my disastrous date. Susan decided not to return to the clinic so Monica and Wen offered me a permanent job!"

"Congratulations."

"Severus, have you thought of going to a trade school or something?" Severus raised his eyebrow in question. "I've done some research while at the clinic. Since you are a day laborer, you could qualify for a scholarship to one of the trade schools. You could get a certification in something to find a permanent job."

"It's a thought. I'd have to fabricate some paperwork from a Muggle prep school."

"Well, I am sure someone at the British Ministry owes you a favor."

"Perhaps. I'll think about it."

Hermione smiled. "Good."

They fell silent and picked up their books to read. Reading together is something they had done often. Severus couldn't settle to read though. Last night rested heavily on his mind. He wanted to move into a more intimate relationship with Hermione.

She looked very pretty today in the sunshine. Her hair was pulled back, but a stubborn curl would fall to her face, and she would push it back behind her ear. When it fell again, Severus reach out and tucked it behind her ear for her. But instead of pulling his hand away, he traced her cheek to her chin. Hermione looked at him, her eyes somewhat surprised. She smiled and turned her head back to her book.

Severus knew if he gave into to his desire, the kiss would ruin absolutely everything, but he couldn't seem to help himself. He moved closer and pulled her face gently toward him. He looked into her eyes and leaned forward. Their lips touched, and he pressed his firmly against hers. After a moment, he pulled away. His heart broke when Hermione immediately got up and walked away.

Hermione needed to compose herself. She didn't want to appear like a hormonal teenager in from of him, but she was dancing with joy inside. Finally, FINALLY, he had kissed her! She took a deep breath and turned around, but Severus had disappeared. She looked frantically around and saw him walking quickly away.

"SEVERUS!" She hollered and ran toward him. "Where are you going?" She grabbed his sleeve and turned him toward her, not letting go.

"I'm sorry Hermione, I shouldn't have done that."

"Oh, yes you should have!"

"But you seemed to be upset."

"No, I am not upset, you stupid man. I just didn't want you to see me reacting like an idiot teenager! I have wanted you to kiss me for so long! Please don't go, please?"

Severus stood there. Hermione moved closer, and put her free hand up to catch the back of his head and pulled him closer. "Please, kiss me again."

And he did.

They stood in the warm sunshine kissing each other completely obvious to others around them. Their whole world was right in the three-foot square section of ground their bodies occupied right then. When an escaped ball from a child's game of football hit them, they finally broke apart.

"Sorry mates!" The kid cheerily said. Hermione and Severus just smiled and walked away, arm in arm.

Hermione shifted her dress for the third time. "Alright, one last time. I concentrate on when I tossed up all over Aunty Della's shoes, focusing on the memory while performing the joint spell. And you'll keep them distracted?"

"I've got a plethora of anecdotes to amuse them with." Severus reached an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "It'll be fine, Hermione." He pressed his lips to her temple and pulled away, fingers trailing down her arm as they heard heeled footsteps approaching the door.

Monica pulled the door open and paused, glancing between the two who seemed to realize how close they were standing and moved apart quickly. Monica smiled and gestured within as she welcomed them. "Ah, Hermione, how are you, dear? And, Stephen, did you finish up that job over at the bank on Third Street? Their landscaping looked lovely when I drove past this morning."

Dinner was going smoothly, although Hermione was a little quieter than usual. "Are you all right, Hermione?" Monica asked.

"Yes, my stomach is just a bit off tonight." Severus squeezed her thigh reassuringly under the table. Hermione began repeating the spell in her head, focusing on the lurid dress and staring at Monica as she subtly traced the spell.

Severus watched as Hermione muttered beneath her breath. He turned his head to watch for any sign of recognition in the older couple's eyes. Wendell glanced between the couple and gave a small nod to Monica.

"So, Stephen," she began, "are you seeing anyone at the moment?" Her eyes danced to Hermione.

Severus was momentarily distracted. "Um, sort of, I guess," he stuttered.

Monica beamed over at him. "Well, tell us about her! Who is she, how'd you meet, have you kissed her yet?"

Hermione glanced up at Severus, eyes watery. She spoke, "Yeah, I'm not feeling myself. I'm so sorry, Monica, Wendell. I just need to go..." And with that Hermione jumped up and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind her as she left the house.

Severus excused himself quickly and went after Hermione. He found her just outside on the pavement, trembling from head to toe. Their last hope, their last attempt to retrieve her parents' memories had failed. Severus pulled her closer to him and Apparated them directly into his room.

When they landed, Hermione clung to him and broke down. Severus stroked her hair and crooned, "Oh my Hermione, shush, don't cry. It's all right. I'm here."

Through her heaving sobs, she spoke, "But it was my last chance to get my parents back. I want my mum!" She stamped her foot while in his embrace. "I want to talk to my mum about all the silly things I did when I was little, I want to have her help me with my wedding day. I want to watch my husband lay my first child in my father's arms."

Severus rocked her, whispering, "I know," over and over, punctuating the words with kisses. "Hermione, it's alright. You can still tell her these things, and then share them with her. You can still have her help you buy your dress, and you can still let him hold your child. You kept them alive, Hermione."

He pulled away, holding her face in his hands and wiping tears from her eyes, "You saved them Hermione. Even if you cannot bring them back, they are still your parents; although they are Monica and Wendell, they want love you, and they want to be involved in your life."

He stepped back, but did not let her go. He lifted a hand to her chin and pulled her face upward. "Hermione, I am here. I will never let you go. I will always be here for you, love."

Hermione sniffled and rubbed her hand across her face. Her lip trembled, but she wasn't crying. She stepped up onto her toes and kissed him. "Thank you." She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him again.

He pulled her closer to him as their kiss continued, wrapping his arms around her again, one hand moving up her back to cradle her head. He tilted her head slightly to take advantage of her sweet lips and flicked his tongue along the bottom one. She opened readily to him. After few moments, when breathing seemed important, they parted and looked at each other again.

Hermione licked her lips and smiled up at him. She kicked her shoes off and moved her hands to the top of her zipper on her dress. "Severus, if you want this to stop, you should say so now." She leaned forward, trailing her lips along his neck.

Severus said nothing, but began to work her dress off and dropped it to the floor. He led her to the bed and sat her down. Kneeling, he removed her stockings and then pulled off his own boots. Hermione scooted farther onto the bed and lay down. Severus, quickly laying next to her, pulled her close. "I love you, Hermione. I want you to know that now so that you know tonight was not only about giving you want you need, but giving you what I wanted to."

Hermione nodded and pulled his head down for a kiss. "I want this very much, too. Have for a while." She helped him pull his shirt up and over his head.

Once he was divested of his shirt, he leaned back in to kiss her. His tongue teased her lips before moving down to trace her jawbone, moving down her neck. He kissed her neck, just above her collarbone and felt her body tighten in response. He chuckled darkly, continuing to kiss and suck the creamy, soft skin that smelled like the jasmine soap she usually used.

His hands were not stationary while his lips worked her skin. His fingers lightly traced her shoulder and arm moving to just enough to tease her, so that she would want more. His hips ground subconsciously against her thigh as he tickled the soft skin of her belly. He moved his hand around to her back to unhook her bra and pulled it away.

Hermione arched up into him, rolling her body along his. His touches and kisses were teasing promises along the edge of her mind, but she wanted more. Her hips danced along his, as his hands tossed her bra into some forgotten corner.

Severus pulled away to look at the woman below him. Her eyes were glassy with lust and her breathing was shallow and quick. He watched as she licked her lips. She moved a hand up to caress his face and he leaned in to it. Giving her another deep kiss, he moved down and gazed at her breasts. They were moderately sized with dusky pink areolae and prominent nipples just begging for attention. Severus took a finger and with his fingernail, very lightly traced the skin of the fullest part of one breast. Hermione moaned with pleasure. Once his finger reached the edge of her areola he traced it, moving in concentric circles until he circled the nipple. He lightly pinched and tweaked it until it was rigid and moved his mouth to it, Hermione breathless in anticipation. He flicked his tongue over it and then moved away with a smirk on his face. He repeated the teasing of her breast and nipple until Hermione issued a warning if he "didn't bloody stop teasing" and so finally wrapped his mouth around her reddened bud and sucked.

Hermione cried out when he finally quit his bloody teasing and dug her fingers through his hair, pulling his mouth more fully onto her breast. "Yes, just there," she said, fingers tightening on his scalp. She moved one of her hands down across his back, digging her nails in any time his tongue swept over the head of her nipple, or his teeth grazed along the tender flesh. Her hand found the waist of his trousers and slipped under the material. She rubbed along his buttock and traced along his hip; he rolled up a bit to let her hand come around to the front where she rubbed across his stomach, skipping over the place he directly wanted her touch.

"Talk about bloody teasing," he chuckled and his own hand moved to her waistband.

She laughed up at him and pulled his mouth up to hers for a quick kiss before she squirmed underneath him and moved his head to the breast he hadn't kissed yet. "Turnabout's fair play. Now get on with it."

Things got very involved after that. Severus took full command and with a wave of his wand, both were completely nude. He moved over her and settled into the cradle of her hips between her legs. He nipped and sucked a moment or two longer at her breasts before kissing his way down the her belly, reveling in the soft warmth and smell of her skin. He scooted back in order to see her pussy and ran his fingers through the downy hair that framed it.

Hermione ran her fingers down his arms and murmured, "Yessss." Severus wasted no further time before leaning down to run his tongue along the cleft of her folds. Hermione bucked in pleasure, and Severus placed his hands on her hips to hold her down. He ran his tongue from her opening up to her clit, sucked it into his mouth, his tongue flicking the tip.

Hermione gripped the sheets as his tongue teased her sensitive folds, hips trying to buck against his stronger hands. "Please," she begged, not fully certain of what she was begging for.

"What, Hermione, what do you want me to do?"

"I want... I want... More, please. More." She moaned thrusting weakly against his grip.

He moved one of his hands lower, one finger slipping in between her folds. "Is this what you wanted?"

"Merlin, yes! Please, more." She moved against his hand, getting a stronger thrust, but still unable to move against him fully.

He smirked and pulled the finger away. "Tell me what you want, then." As he spoke, he moved upward and into position, his cock just at her opening. "Is this what you want?"

Hermione nodded frantically, "Yes. I want you...all of you."

Severus looked directly at her, "If I take this last step, Hermione, you will be mine forever. Are you sure you want all of me?"

Hermione placed both hands on Severus' face and pulled him to just an inch of her own. "I choose forever," she breathed against his lips.

Severus thrust slowly forward. When he was deeply seated, he kissed her again and then began to move within her. He could feel her muscles fluttering around his cock, and he had to concentrate so as not to end this too soon.

Hermione kissed him, and as he was pulling back, she rolled them over, straddling her legs on either side of his hips. "That's what I want." She rolled her hips along his, moaning, and laid herself flat along him, her nipples kissing along his. Hermione moved up and kissed him, tracing her hands along his arms and pinning them above his head. She began to move herself slowly up and down along his length, teasing the both of them, stomach muscles tensing and clenching with each movement.

Severus' head was spinning. This little witch was taking command of his heart, soul, and now his body, and he was more than willing to let her. Of all the torture he ever experienced, this was the sweetest. After a few minutes of Hermione's movements, he began to add his own, thrusting his hips upwards as Hermione moved down. She moaned in delight as the extra motion increased the movement over her G-spot.

Her hands moved down from his wrists, coming to support her body across his chest as they moved in tandem. His hands, now free, moved down along her ribcage.

Hermione quickly sat straight up, and Severus brought one hand to guide her hips, and the other he slipped between them to rub her clit. "Oh yes, so close...so close," she moaned. Severus increased his thrust in response.

Hermione moved against him, seeking out her release, and looked down at his dark eyes, focusing on them.

"Hermione, I won't," Severus panted, "last much longer. You're too sweet. Gods, I love you."

Hermione nodded at him, beyond words, and climaxed over him, arms collapsing under her as she lay across him. She continued to move, pushing downward as his hands guided her hips. It only took a few more strokes before he came, grunting in satisfaction with each spasm.

When he was done, his arms dropped helplessly on either side of his body. Hermione slid off, but cuddled into his side. Both lay panting for a moment, idly stroking each other as they regained their wits and strength.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: A HUGE shout-out to everyone who loves this, and THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER!

Disclaimer: Not ours, as ever.

* * *

Chapter 8: Two Years Later

Hermione and Monica walked out of Bibi's Wedding Boutique, the fifth such shop they had visited that day. Hermione ran a frustrated hand through her hair, the princess cut diamond on her left ring finger glinting in the afternoon sun.

"I'll never find anything!" she growled.

Monica put a consoling arm around her shoulder. "Never fear, love; we'll find the perfect dress soon," she said, glancing at her watch. "Come on, we should pop home. Severus and Wen will be home before long. We still need to get ready for our weekend away in Sydney." The women found a quiet alley where Hermione put her arms around Monica and whirled them away.

Severus and Hermione had never really intended to tell Monica and Wendell they were a witch and wizard. Not that they hadn't thought about it; the timing just never seemed right. It wasn't until a summons to a court hearing had come for Severus that the need arose.

Rita Skeeter had found a little bit of information she thought worthy enough to bring to the Wizengamot's attention. For all Severus was lauded a hero, for all his years being tortured as a double agent, for all his years he protected Harry because of his oath to Dumbledore, it seemed, so Rita thought, that Severus deserted the battle as soon as he was able to. And THAT is what Rita wanted him charged with. It was no secret she did not like Severus, and she routinely paraded his sins in _The Daily Prophet_ as often as she could get away with it.

The trip back to England was a nightmare. The courtroom where Severus' hearing was held was filled to the brim with spectators. For three days, he sat in the chair at the foot of the Wizengamot bench where he was questioned regarding his days as a Death Eater, his time as Headmaster, the killing of Albus Dumbledore, and his love for Lily which were all paraded, dissected, and embellished with sickening drama.

When asked why he left, Severus was silent for a long moment. He hadn't intended to actually leave the country at all. He intended to get the Elder Wand. He only considered leaving for a moment. But at the moment of decision, when he had to choose between continuing to perform the roles he filled for over twenty years or simply 'disappear' into oblivion, oblivion apparently was the Sydney Opera House.

He told his story as succinctly as possible. When he was through, Madame Ainsley stood and declared that the Wizengamot would adjourn to consider what they had heard. Two hours later, Severus was acquitted of all of the charges brought against him by Rita with the exception of desertion. Given the extenuating circumstances, he was banished from England for the rest of his life, rather than sentenced to Azkaban.

Hermione was livid and in his defense, declared herself a citizen of Australia on the spot. She made her way to the Ministry, filled out the necessary paperwork, and left. She and Severus visited her parent's old home and packed up her belongings. They then went to Hogwarts where Severus packed and shrunk all his belongings as well. Within a week, the couple was settled again in their apartment in Gladstone, happily planning their wedding.

Two years had brought the couple much joy. Their relationship grew stronger and deeper. Hermione happily worked at the dentistry while Severus, with his forged paperwork, attended college, studying chemistry. He continued to work day jobs as this was the best way for him to go to school and contribute to their living expenses.

The couple's relationship with Monica and Wendell grew as well. For Severus, they were indeed the parents he never had, and for Hermione, they were physically her parents, if not mentally, and she relished learning to love and be loved by this couple again.

One quiet weekend upon their return from England, Hermione and Severus sat Monica and Wendell down and told them the truth. There was surprise, incredulity, fear, and for a time, separation.

Hermione felt the strain at work. For several days, there were no words between the Wilkins and her except concerning work. The partners in the practice were perplexed to see what was once a seemingly friendly relationship cooling. Three weeks after Monica and Wen were told, they offered an olive branch to the young couple and the rift was healed. The elder couple marveled at Hermione and Severus' abilities and were eager to learn about life in the Wizarding world.

The foursome returned from their weekend in Sydney Sunday afternoon, ready to face the workweek ahead. Monica seemed a bit distracted, and when Hermione asked her what the trouble was, Monica asked her to have a seat in her bedroom, and she would be right back.

Hermione looked at her surroundings. The room was similar to what she remembered her parents' bedroom was like in England. The mother she knew as Jean was all for sumptuous bedding and colors, and the mother she knew as Monica was the same. It still hurt that these similarities were not enough to reverse or trip any memories and bring back the Jean Hermione grew up with. She was startled from her thoughts when Monica came in, carrying a large box.

"Here. I had this in the attic," she spoke, untying the twine that held the cardboard together. "I am not sure what you might think," she opened the box and removed layers of tissue, "but I wondered if you would look at this." Monica pulled out a swath of white material and held it up. "We are about the same size, and perhaps with your magic, you could-"

Hermione burst into tears. Monica held the very dress that she was married in; the one Hermione dreamed of wearing one day at her own wedding. It was a white satin sheath dress with wide satin straps, leaving the shoulders bare. It had a scoop neck with extra fabric that draped from shoulder to shoulder in a graceful arc. Hermione reached out to finger the material and through her tears said, "Are you sure? It's gorgeous! You shouldn't offer me this!"

"Why not?" Monica was crying as well. "I never had a daughter, but you're as close to one as I could wish for. Please, I would be honored to see you wear this."

Hermione took the dress and laid it on the bed, then grabbed her mother and hugged her, both women crying. They were interrupted when the men entered the room.

"Hermione?" Severus asked. "Are you all right?"

"Monica?" echoed Win.

Hermione moved to Severus and sobbed in his arms. "Oh, Sev, Monica offered me her wedding dress to wear."

"Oh, love, that's wonderful." Only Severus knew just want the significance of the offer meant to his fiancée. He looked at Wen who was hugging and crooning to his wife. Clearing his throat, he said, "Why don't we let the women try the dress on while we get some drinks in celebration?"

Three months later, at the chapel in the Wizarding village of Abbotslea, Severus and Hermione wed. With her mother's help, Hermione had the wedding of her dreams; traditional Wizarding rites, Severus looking handsome in his green dress robes, her mother and father in robes made especially for them, flowers banking the pews, and a few musicians playing the Wedding March.

But especially dear to Hermione was the fact that Wendell walked his 'daughter' down the aisle to marry a man that had become a son to him.

Friends from the clinic and England had been invited, and to Hermione's and Severus' pleasure, were able to attend: Minerva, Harry and Ginny, Ron and Lavender, Arthur and Molly, Draco and Astoria, Lucius and Narcissa, and Neville and Luna. The reception was held at the Wilkins' home. The crowd enjoyed a mixture of Muggle and Wizarding delicacies. The crowd chatted amiably, one conversation standing out.

"Severus, old boy, do you think you'll challenge the Wizengamot's ruling?" Lucius asked, sipping his champagne.

"What for?"

"So that you can return to England, of course. Surely you don't want to live here forever?"

Hermione had come up while he was speaking, Minerva in tow. "Actually Lucius, Severus and I are both Australian citizens now. We are very happy here."

Severus nodded in agreement putting his arm around his wife

"But what about your children? Does Australia have a Wizarding school?"

Minerva interrupted. "An excellent one. However, any child of the Snapes would always be welcome at Hogwarts, regardless of the citizenship of their parents."

"Thank you, Minerva," said Severus. "Now, we need to get back to our guests."

After several more hours filled with music and dancing, Severus asked Hermione if she was ready to leave.

"I am tired and ready to go, love."

"Then let's." Severus made his way to the edge of the yard where they would Apparate to New Zealand for a week, watching as Hermione said goodbye to her parents and friends. From the corner of his eye, he saw movement in the yard next door. Mr. Tiny-Dick had been watching from his patio. Severus couldn't help but smile. Knowing that the boy was watching the woman he treated so shabbily step into his arms, he kissed her passionately. A slamming door cued Severus that Drake had gone inside and without breaking the kiss, he Apparated them away.

* * *

Hermione sat on the lid of the toilet seat, Monica beside her with an egg timer. The slim, white stick sat on the counter, carefully unwatched as the timer ticked down. Hermione's hands clenched and unclenched against the denim of her jeans, eyes dancing between her slight pouch of stomach, and the egg timer in her mother's hands. "Thank you," she whispered to Monica."

Monica reached a hand out to squeeze the hand of the girl she considered a daughter. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

Ding!

Hermione jumped up and stood beside the counter, eyes scrunched tightly shut and hands fanning out around the slim stick, afraid to touch it, afraid to burst the bubble of hope. Monica stood behind her, arms wrapped about her waist. "Well, love?"

Hermione opened her eyes and looked at the tiny screen. The two thin lines seemed to smile back at her. She moved her hand up to her face and felt her tears and smiling cheeks as Monica's arms tightened around her. "I'm pregnant!"

Weekly dinners at the Wilkins often involved banter and soft ribbing amongst the four, but tonight was different. Monica and Hermione seemed up to something, and neither Wendell nor Severus could get a handle on what it was. Severus flat-out asked halfway through the meal, and a radiant Hermione told him to wait until after cake.

Her somewhat grumbly husband shifted in his seat and hurried to help Wendell clear the dishes so he could have his cake and eat it too. The women firmly insisted that their men sit at the table as the dessert was prepared and brought to dining room. Both men nodded at each other over their glasses of port, united in their confusion and exclusion.

The lights were dimmed, and soon Monica and Hermione walked in, arms laden with an elegant glass cake stand on which stood a sinful looking chocolate cake with one lit candle on top. Hermione held the cake, standing away from the table a bit as Monica explained, "This cake is for all of us, but the icing is for Severus." With that, Hermione stepped forward and placed the cake stand before her husband.

He had been holding his port when he looked down at the icing on the top of the cake. His hands jerked, dropping the glass onto the floor, spilling the red liquid all over the carpeting, but his eyes remained riveted on the words on the cake.

Congratulations, Daddy.

* * *

Hermione groaned once more as she rolled over. At six months pregnant, she wasn't supposed to have this much trouble sleeping, but she had grown accustomed to sleeping across her husband, or on her stomach. Now that her belly—which had grown considerably—prevented either course of action, insomnia plagued her constantly.

She traced her hands over the taut skin, trying to soothe the child she could feel rolling in her stomach—stronger than a flutter, but not yet a definite roll—and she went over her list of baby names. Her appointment would be tomorrow—or rather, later today—and they would find out if their child was a son or daughter. She really wanted to have a son. For herself and for Sev. She had always wanted brothers, and had loved hanging out at the Weasleys, and having a son would help Severus to heal, she hoped. He wasn't a broken man, by any means, but the break between himself and his own father had led to many of the decisions he had made as a boy. He had become a man in spite of his childhood. She could only imagine how much pent-up love would spill over onto a son he could give his heart to, a child he could give the future he never had.

A daughter would be just as loved. Daddy would be wrapped tightly around her little finger, and no man would ever be good enough to love his little angel.

She could picture him teaching a small, brunette boy to collect specimens for a potion, or teaching a black-haired girl some ancient alchemy from some dusty tome. Either way, she saw his dark eyes shining, his mouth twitched in that smile he only gave her, and his brow unfurrowed. This child was a balm to them both, as having a child of her own, and being able to share each step of that experience with Monica and Wendell, if not with Mum and Dad, had eased all the loss from her heart. She still felt twinges, every now and again, but they were more like the memory of a terrible pain rather than the pain itself.

She turned her head and smiled at her sleeping husband, his long body curled towards hers, wrists resting on her knees. She stroked one hand through his hair, and kept her fingers tangled there as she looked back over her list:

Girls:

Monica Wendy

Wendy Monica

Wendy Jean

Boys:

Wendell Xavier

Daniel Tobias

Granger Prince

Each name meant something to her, so how could she cross any off? Now, of course, whichever gender the baby was would play a huge role, but…Hermione's mind continued to ravel and unravel the names over in her mind as she slipped into sleep.

Severus opened his eyes and smiled at his finally sleeping wife. Her snores had been something he could tease her about which no one else knew—apparently pregnancy caused it, or so she claimed—and his eyes moved from her face to the pad of parchment resting high on her mounded belly. He looked down at the sheet and read over the names once more. He reached for a pen and crossed off Granger Prince and Wendy Monica, thinking both names would be too much for any child to carry. His hand tucked the pen back in the spiral binding of the pad, and he slipped his hands into Hermione's as he closed his eyes again and drifted off to sleep, a grin coloring his expression.

* * *

At eight and a half months pregnant, Hermione had been ready to have her son—their little boy—out of her stomach and in her arms for what seemed like forever now. Wendell and Monica had arranged a baby shower a month ago, which had been full of gifts from all of their friends, and the expectant couple had already owled their friends in England, sharing the news of their coming joy. Molly Weasley had thrown Hermione the largest and most unique baby shower she had ever been to. The incident with the whistling teapot, Great Aunty Muriel, a small cat, and three biscuits was never to be forgotten. Between the two showers, the small nursery in their home was well-stocked and ready for its little master at any time.

So when Hermione had been complaining of back pain for a few hours, and then suddenly suffered a spasming pain, she went into a full-blown state of panic, forgetting to time contractions and completely ignoring Severus' calm voice of reason. She behaved like a chicken with her head cut-off until she realized that she never had a second contraction.

She calmed down and cuddled with Severus, thanking him for being her rock. "I know nothing can go wrong when it really happens," she whispered. "You'll have it all handled." He tucked his nose against hers, bopping them together as his hands stroked along her stretched skin—as his hands were wont to do frequently, delighting in the kicks of his growing son.

She was sitting at the breakfast table when it really happened. Her hands jumped to her stomach, and she gasped softly. She looked up at Severus, who hadn't noticed anything yet, eyes poring over the day's edition of The Daily Prophet. "Sev?"

"Hmm?" he asked, hand reaching blindly for his toast while his eyes were still reading about the newest Minister's plan of action for recuperation from the "devastating war that stole so many of the rising generation from our midst". "Yes, Hermione?"

She smiled faintly at her husband. Merlin help her, but she loved him. A quiet whimper escaped her as a second, stronger contraction rippled across her stomach like a belt being tightened across her middle. Once it had passed and she could breathe again, she said in a calm, clear voice, "I'm in labor."

Severus' eyes flew up to hers and his toast skittered across his plate as his hand slammed down onto the table. "What?" The paper crumpled to his lap as his eyes moved quickly to her stomach, almost accusing the portion of her anatomy for its current predicament.

"I'm in labor. I've had some contractions and back pains last night, but thought they were Braxton-Hicks like before. But, just now I've had two really strong ones. We need to get to the hospital. I'll call Monica while you get dressed and grab the bags. They'll be here to pick us up in a quick minute."

Severus blinked owlishly at her. "What?"

Hermione laughed and then groaned as she curled into a particularly hard contraction. She breathed heavily through it as Severus stood awkwardly from the table, tangling his long legs as he ran to the bedroom. He reappeared a minute later wearing a mismatched outfit of different blacks. She smiled and reached her arms up to him. He reached for her and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Sev, we can do this. Besides, I'm the one who's going to be having him. I need you to be calm for me, and help me get through it, to the lovely, gory finish."

He nodded, arms tightening around her for half a breath before he magicked their bags to fit into his pocket. He helped her walk down the stairs to the main lobby, pausing with her through three contractions. His hands had been on her stomach for the last one, and he was half-amazed that he could feel her body contracting from the outside, half-afraid that it was going to get worse for her.

When her water broke as they stood outside waiting for her parents, he simply magicked the mess away and held her close to him, trying to support her weight against him. It was almost over, and they weren't even at the hospital yet!

Except that it wasn't almost over.

Three hours later, and Hermione was only dilated to seven centimeters. Severus had been mopping her brow, feeding her ice chips and enduring her several attempts—two successful—to break at least one bone in his hand as his son was trying to be born.

After another two agonizing hours, it was finally time to push, and Hermione was stronger than he had ever seen her, fighting to see her child, the son they both already loved with all their hearts. Severus' heart clenched as the doctor called out that one more push would do it. Hermione panted and nodded for him to go and watch his son enter the world.

He stepped down to the end of the table and watched in complete disbelief as Hermione birthed their son. A nurse scrubbed him off, suctioning his nose and mouth free of amniotic fluid, and the most delightful sound—a soft wailing cry that grew to be stronger—filled the room.

Time seemed to stand still for him.

Wendell clapped him on the shoulder before Severus realized he wasn't alone with his son. His gaze moved from the infant on the table, surrounded by nurses doing a series of tests over to the child's unwitting grandfather.

Wendell smiled. "He's a strong boy. And so beautiful, too."

Severus nodded, unable to find words to match the emotions and thoughts thundering through his mind. It felt like home, inside.

He walked over to Hermione, where she lay resting on the bed, holding Monica's hand. The nurse handed the baby to Hermione, all swaddled in a bright green cloth, which made the Slytherin in him smirk and cringe all at once, and then he was lost in those baby-blue eyes.

Hermione crooned at the little one, kissing his large nose, and the baby looked around at all of them, great big eyes watching everything as his mouth moved back and forth in a sucking motion. Severus leaned down and traced the downy cheek, only to have his finger ensnared in a surprisingly strong grip.

"Wendell?" Hermione asked. "Would you like to hold him, Grandpa?"

Severus smiled, and leaned over and kissed his son on the head, moving to cradle the precious life and laying his son, Wendell Xavier, into his father-in-law's arms.

He heard blubbering and a shutter going off as Monica took a picture, but he knew he wouldn't need a photograph to remember this moment, this day.

This day was the the fulfillment of a dream for Hermione.

This day was the day Severus Snape truly left behind all he thought he'd lost only to find it, hidden in his heart the entire time.

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E/N: So, this is the wrap-up. Thoughts? Please take the time to review, since it means so much to us!


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